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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536597">Cabbages and Kings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane'>The_Lady_Crane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Sweethearts, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Fantastic Racism, Fish out of Water, Homophobia, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Imprisonment, Inspired by Fanfiction, Intersex, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mpreg, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Why Did I Write This?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:20:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is tough when your father wants to force you to bear your enemy's child. Fortunately, Soren has a few tricks up his sleeve...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ike/Senerio | Soren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue to Part 1: Kings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been sitting on this story concept for ages, and I decided to go ahead and post it. I have the whole thing basically plotted out. This was heavily inspired by a few other works, chiefly https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/18652105/chapters/44233321 (The Omega Prince, by Kiki9627 and Lady Savrola) and https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/22658302/chapters/54156373 (Weakness, by SteeleStingray). They're both excellent stories, and my mind just went wild after reading them! I love the Prince AU, and I love alpha/omega stories. </p><p>I'm afraid that I'm not very good with longer works, but I'm going to do my best to actually follow through with this one! </p><p>Keep in mind that some things are different in this AU, other than Soren being a prince: Lehran's Medallion either doesn't exist or was never found, for one. Other changes will be revealed as the story goes on. Just remember that this is totally canon divergent.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were no guards in the hall.</p><p>That caught Soren’s attention as he walked towards the king’s chambers. Usually, he could expect to find a pair of them, heavily armored and standing alert at the entrance to the corridor. The lack of gleaming black armor in his path meant only one thing – they were going to have another Discussion.</p><p>Ashnard was a careful man. Known far and wide as the Mad King, it would surprise nobody to learn that he could be paranoid in his dealings with others. If he had dismissed his guard, which was already a small force to begin with, then it meant he feared anyone overhearing tonight’s meeting. Soren shuddered. The last time his father had called for him under such circumstances, they had discussed his mother. Nothing was more awkward than being caught in the middle of one of his parents’ spats.</p><p>The king was waiting in the parlor, seated with his back to the far wall so he could watch the antechamber as well as the balcony doors. Soren didn’t need to announce his presence. He came in silently, nervous under his father’s piercing gaze, and gave a small bow of greeting. Ashnard leaned back in his chair, the table before him already set for dinner. “Sit down,” he said, and Soren obeyed, taking the chair opposite his father. There were no servants on hand; he poured his own glass of wine.</p><p>The king smiled, the creases of his face casting sinister shadows in the candlelight. Soren frowned at him. He took up his pewter goblet, swirled the contents (mostly to check for poison residue), and took a sip. Then, fixing the king with a piercing gaze of his own, he said, “What is it this time, old man?”</p><p>The king’s smile turned into a grimace. “You know,” he said, “there are fathers who command respect from their sons. Fathers who don’t even own their own armies. And yet I—” here he raised his voice just slightly (Soren rolled his eyes), “King of Daein, have come to expect such <em>insolence </em>from you!”</p><p>“Cut the theatrics,” Soren said flatly. “You turned the guards away. Why?”</p><p>“Can I not discuss important matters without being overheard?” Ashnard scoffed. “I am a king; I can do what I want!”</p><p>“Your authority isn’t in question, here.” Soren took another sip of wine, wondering if the alcohol would mellow his nerves a bit. “You only dismiss the guard when you have something unpleasant to discuss with me. What is it? Let’s not dance around the issue.”</p><p>Ashnard chuckled lowly. “Observant, aren’t you?”</p><p>“That’s why you appointed me as your strategist. Now, tell me.”</p><p>“Very well!” The king began piling food onto his own plate, hardly looking over at Soren as he spoke. “I assume that your heat draws near. It <em>is</em> about the right time of year, is it not?”</p><p>Soren felt his face go hot. “No,” he said.</p><p>Ashnard didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ve given much thought to the matter of an heir.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>.”</p><p>“And I think I have found someone perfectly suitable!”</p><p>“No!” Soren slammed his fist on the table, finally drawing Ashnard’s attention.</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“No!” Soren folded his arms tightly about himself, glaring at his father for all he was worth. “I told you before that I won’t go along with this! I don’t care <em>who </em>you’ve chosen, I’m not having it!”</p><p>Ashnard’s fist tightened around his fork. “This is for the good of the country!” he snarled. “It is your <em>duty</em>, after all!” Soren’s flushed face turned downward as Ashnard resumed buttering a roll. “Besides, you wouldn’t have to raise the child yourself. Leave it to the servants.”</p><p>“That’s not the issue, here!” Soren said. “I’m not sleeping with some random pervert!”</p><p>The king sighed, finally lowering his knife and fork. He looked out the window at the dark sky, at their reflections showing this farce of a family dinner. “I ask you…” he said, “what CHOICE you think you have in the matter?!” His voice thundered around the room. Soren barely flinched. “I feed you!” Ashnard continued. “I clothe you! I put a CASTLE over your head!” He gestured above them demonstratively. “How many people can say that they have a CASTLE to call home?!”</p><p>“And because of that, I have to give up my autonomy entirely?”</p><p>Ashnard stared at him. “Why is that so hard for you to accept?” he asked.</p><p>Soren groaned and slumped in his chair, downing the rest of his wine in two gulps. “I told you before that I wouldn’t follow along with this plan,” he said. “I meant what I said. I’m not giving up my body that way.”</p><p>“And you would see our line fall into ruin?!” Ashnard shouted. “Daein needs a strong heir! I need a grandson! YOU’RE right here, ready to give that to me! So, do as I say, and SPREAD YOUR LEGS FOR DAEIN!” </p><p>“And I have absolutely no choice in the matter?!” Soren snapped. “Who exactly do you have in mind, <em>Father</em>?!”</p><p>“For your information, he is a FINE warrior! The BEST!”</p><p>Soren shuddered again, gripping himself tightly. Visions of his father’s “best warriors” danced before his eyes – rugged men, violent men, men who would no doubt have little issue with treating him like a whore for a few nights a month. He’d heard the whispers about him. Though he was a fearsome spellcaster and gifted with deadly intellect that had catapulted their army to victory time and time again, he was slender and small and very unlike the image most might have of the Prince of Daein. He was often the subject of many ribald comments among the guards. Only those who had seen him in battle held any kind of respect for him. Within the castle walls, he was “Princess” and “Lovely” and “I’d-Like-to-Fuck-That.”</p><p>“Who?” Soren asked, his voice barely a whisper.</p><p>The king grinned, his eyes glinting. “A general,” he said, and Soren immediately thought of the Black Knight or Bertram or <em>Petrine. </em>He wouldn’t put it past that woman to possess the right anatomy. She probably attached it herself, using one she had cut off of one of her own hapless underlings.</p><p>“One of Daein’s?”</p><p>“Crimea, but he is of Daein stock.” Soren’s head snapped up at this, his eyes going wide as his father laughed. “His father thought he could escape me, but I always have my way, in the end.”</p><p>Soren swallowed a lump in his throat. “You can’t mean… You didn’t…”</p><p>Ashnard’s grin widened. “The son of Gawain.”</p><p>Soren felt he might faint.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Generous Gift, Indeed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“The fever seems to be subsiding.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He opens his eyes to insubstantial shadows and wavering light. He feels warm – warmer than he’s felt in a long time, he thinks. The weight of the blankets presses him down into the mattress. He’s almost lost in the bed, hidden among the pillows. The healer is formless, a slim, pale wisp in his peripheral vision. Beyond that, the darkness is swallowed by an even more imposing figure. The king stands by the doorway, his face hidden. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And the cause?” Ashnard’s voice isn’t softened for the sake of the bedridden prince. Soren closes his eyes again, his head throbbing from the harsh tone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, Your Majesty, there seems to be… er… an irregularity…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s a noise like someone choking. Something thuds against the carpet. Soren doesn’t open his eyes. “Irregularity?! Stop wavering and SPEAK!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The healer pants and gasps. “I- Forgive me, Your Majesty! It’s as if- there is- he seems to be undergoing menarche…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmm? Monarch? What IS this stylishly-named illness?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“N- no, ‘menarche’. That is, um… When a girl first begins to reach womanhood, she undergoes…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“TELL me what’s going on!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I- Yes, Your Majesty. The prince is…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t understand why so many are unable to complete such simple TASKS in this castle!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If I could just…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“SPIT IT OUT!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your son is becoming a woman!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That gets the king’s attention. “A woman, you say?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I can’t really explain it.” The healer’s words come quickly now; he’s eager to tell what he knows, and terrified of the king’s reaction. “I’ve given him a physical examination, and it seems that he has female parts in addition to male parts. He’s, er, what you might call ‘both’. Intersex.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ashnard is quiet for some time. Soren trembles under the blankets. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It seems as if his body is changing,” the healer continues. “I can’t tell, but it may be- this may be similar to a laguz’s heat. Laguz do not undergo a menstrual cycle as beorc women do, but their bodies do change in similar ways, and…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What of the fever?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It seems that his body has been fighting the changes, but I’ve given him a potion to settle…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, he’ll be alright?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Y- yes, Your Majesty, I believe so.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Another pause. “Go,” Ashnard says, and the healer makes his leave hastily. The king comes to stand by the bedside. Soren’s eyes remain tightly shut. A heavy hand descends on his head and stays there. “Oh, my son. Who knew you were hiding this kind of secret?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, Soren’s eyes open. He sees his father’s face twisted in a wild grin. “I knew that you would prove to be useful to me. And oh, the ways in which you do! You just keep surprising me!” He gives a short, barking laugh. “Yes, quite useful!” The hand pats him, a little harshly. “Get plenty of rest, now. I need you on the front in two days. And if you survive this battle, then the future of Daein could be very bright, indeed! Ha!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soren shuts out his father’s laughter and sinks further into the blankets. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Useful. He is useful. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It makes him very happy to hear that. </em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Ashnard walked Soren back to his room. It might have been a kind fatherly gesture, but Soren knew better. “You’re going to lock me in, aren’t you?” he asked flatly.</p><p>“What gave you that idea?” Ashnard scoffed.</p><p>Soren didn’t bother countering. It was useless, anyway. Their footsteps echoed around the corridor, bouncing off of the low ceilings, ringing in the armor displayed along the walls. As he’d expected, there was a guard posted outside of his room. Typically, the guards remained at the entrances to the hallway, forbidden from coming too close to the prince by threat of death.</p><p>“He’s already inside,” Soren said. He didn’t need to ask.</p><p>“He is properly restrained, of course.” Ashnard looked to the guard.</p><p>“Yes, Your Majesty,” the man’s voice came out of his helm, phantom-like.</p><p>“What if he breaks free?” Soren asked.</p><p>“Then call the guard,” Ashnard said.</p><p>“And if he attacks me?”</p><p>The king grinned. “Then you’d better kill him before he kills you.”</p><p>There was a man in the room – stripped to the waist, bound by heavy chains to iron bars on the wall, and gagged. That was in line with expectations. Soren had not anticipated that the prisoner would be laid out on his bed, covered in a loose scattering of rose petals, and surrounded by candles that gave off the faint scent of sandalwood and jasmine.</p><p>Soren turned to his father, his face carefully blank. “What the hell is this?” he asked in a voice that was just a bit too high to be toneless.</p><p>“Never say that I don’t get you nice things,” Ashnard said.</p><p>This was his final chance. “I think we should discuss the matter further,” he said.</p><p>Ashnard put a hand on his back. “What is there to discuss? I’ve presented you with a gift. Don’t let it go to waste!”  And so saying, he gave his son a forceful shove into the room. Soren stumbled and caught himself as the door slammed shut behind him. He heard the bolt click into place, and his father say, “If you hear screaming, be sure it’s not of the amorous kind before you barge in there!”</p><p>He was left alone with the man – Ike. They stared at each other. Ike had obviously been trying to wrench himself free before the door had opened; there were angry red marks on his wrists where the chains had bitten into him. His bare chest was heaving slightly. His eyes flashed dangerously, confused and furious, like blue flames. Soren braced himself and slid his mask into place. His father had put a wild beast right into his bed.</p><p>“I’m going to untie the gag,” Soren said. Those blue eyes bored into him as he stepped closer, and suddenly Soren felt like the wild animal as Ike watched him warily. His fingers were nimble and quick as he undid the snap on the leather gag, and he pulled it away fast, minimizing contact with warm skin.</p><p>Ike moved his mouth experimentally, cleared his throat, and resumed glaring at Soren without a word. Soren stared right back, not expecting the silence – he’d prepared to be thoroughly cursed. A long moment stretched between them. Finally, Ike spoke. “Why am I here?”</p><p>Soren moved away from the bed, going to sit at his desk instead. It was easier if he didn’t have to look at the general. “I suppose you were unlucky enough to be captured.”</p><p>“But why am I <em>here</em>?” Ike glanced around the room. “Why not some dungeon cell? Why not dead? What are you people planning to do with me?”</p><p>“You’re General Ike, aren’t you?”</p><p>Ike’s voice was cautious, guarded. “Yes. Who are <em>you</em>?”</p><p>Soren turned to look at him. “You’ve given me a lot of trouble lately, General. You’re lucky that I’m not having you killed.”</p><p>“Who. Are. You?”</p><p>“My name is Soren. I’m King Ashnard’s primary tactician. I’m also the Prince of Daein.”</p><p>Ike didn’t seem too shocked by this. He nodded, apparently digesting this information. Soren noted the way he paused before speaking, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say. At least he wasn’t so stupid as to fire off insults or demand to be set free. “So, what do you want with me?”</p><p>“It’s not what <em>I</em> want, it’s what my father wants.” Soren reached over and picked up one of his quills – a handsome emerald green plume that had been a present from his mother. “I’m sure you’re confused, but I’ll illuminate you if you have some patience with me.” He began to scratch out some quick sketches of the rooms and hallways of the royal quarters. “Tell me, do you know what Branded means?”</p><p>“Branded?” Ike shifted on the bed, causing the chains to clink against the iron headboard. “You mean like what they do to cattle?”</p><p>“No, this is different.” Soren marked the locations of the guards, drawing out their routes in red ink using another quill. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the laguz – I’ve seen you fight alongside them.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“A Branded is a cross between a beorc and a laguz. I am such a person – an anomaly of nature.”</p><p>If this information bothered Ike, he didn’t let on. “OK.”</p><p>“Being Branded, I was born with certain traits,” Soren continued as he circled windows in blue. “Chiefly among those is my physiology. I was born male but developed female anatomy. I am male on the outside, female on the inside.” His voice was emotionless as he focused on jotting down notes. “The king was ecstatic when he found out. I was born small and weak, and I am not fit to rule. But I can provide him with a proper heir. I can give him a strong grandson.”</p><p>Ike was silent as he listened, but Soren thought he could hear his fists tightening around the chains. Before Soren could say anything more, though, Ike’s gruff voice reached his ears. “That’s horrible.”</p><p>“Hm?” Soren looked up, taken aback.</p><p>“He uses you like that, and you’re just going along with it?”</p><p>Another long moment passed. Soren set down his quill. “I’ve heard about you,” he said at last. “They say that you’re ruthless in battle, but that you genuinely care for your men. Is that true?”</p><p>Now it was Ike’s turn to be startled. He blinked at Soren, confused. “I guess so. I do the best I can.”</p><p>“You must have a compassionate nature.”</p><p>“I don’t know. Do I?”</p><p>Soren’s lips quirked into a little smile. “One of these days, somebody is going to take advantage of you. Kindness is weakness.”</p><p>“If you say so,” Ike said. “I’d rather live how I want.”</p><p>“Hm. Is that so?” Soren looked back to his notes, examining them, turning them over in his mind. “Well, don’t waste your time feeling sorry for me. It’s you who should be worried – you’re a captive here, after all.”</p><p>“Sounds like you’re as much a prisoner as I am.”</p><p>“You could say that.” Sighing, Soren stood up and went to stand next to the bed. “Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way out of this. There is no chance of escape right now.”</p><p>“You still haven’t told me why I’m here.”</p><p>“You mean you can’t figure it out?”</p><p>Ike struggled against the chains, trying to sit up, to no avail. “Just tell me, will you? I listened to your story. Get to the point, already!” His patience was beginning to crack.</p><p>“My father wants a strong heir. He needs someone to impregnate me – a strong person.” Ike’s eyes widened as he began to get the implications. “Who better than our strongest enemy? The person who has kept our army on their toes for the past year…”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yes.” Soren looked Ike in the eyes, crossing his arms. Ike glared at him, his mouth a thin line.</p><p>“I won’t do it.”</p><p>“You have no choice.”</p><p>Ike’s eyes roved around the room, apparently looking for any possible means of escape that he might have missed before. Soren reached over and unlocked the shackles around his wrists, using the key that had been placed on the bedside table. “Don’t misunderstand, I’m not looking forward to it any more than you are.” Soren stepped back again as Ike sat up. Self-preservation was keeping him as far from Ike as possible.</p><p>“You can’t make me,” Ike said seriously.</p><p>“I don’t think you understand your position.” Soren leaned against the wall, drawing into himself as much as he could. As much as he wished that Ike would just kill him, he was still fearing the initial blow. “The sooner I conceive, the sooner you can leave.”</p><p>This gave Ike pause. “Ashnard is going to just let me go?” He stood up, flexing his sore arms. “Why would he do that?”</p><p>“He is the Mad King, is he not? I can’t even say why he does the things he does. I think he wants you to come and challenge him, properly. He may even give you that chance before you leave.” Soren looked to his reflection in the windowpane. “He’s obsessed with strength. Even if someone else kills him, that will only affirm his view of the world. I have no doubt that he’ll make good on his promise to release you after this is done, because he wants to see if you truly can beat him.”</p><p>Ike examined his raw wrists. “So, he captured me so I could… with you… And so he could battle me?”</p><p>“I expect that your being here is simply a matter of chance. He’s put this particular decision on hold for some time. Your capture gave him the idea, no doubt. If it wasn’t you, it would be some other brute from our own army.”</p><p>“Are you sure there’s no way to escape?”</p><p>“Positive.” Soren relaxed a little. It didn’t seem as if Ike was likely to try to kill him. “You’re fighting with your friends and family, aren’t you? They must have a hard time without you.”</p><p>Ike’s eyes flashed dangerously in Soren’s direction. “They’re capable of taking care of themselves.”</p><p>“But an army without a leader is asking for death.” Soren held Ike’s gaze steadily. “It is within your best interests to finish this quickly, so you can return to them.”</p><p>For a moment, it appeared as if Ike would hit him, after all. Instead, he slumped onto the bed, his head in his hands. “Look, I… Can I just have some time? This is too much. I can’t just agree to this. It’s…”</p><p>It was almost gladly that Soren returned to his desk, put his back to Ike, and spent the rest of the night ignoring him.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Ike had fallen asleep sometime before dawn. He woke in a haze, confused and a little panicked by the unfamiliar surroundings. When he remembered where he was and why he was here, the sick feeling returned to the pit of his stomach. He wished with all his might that he hadn’t stayed behind to defend that fort. If he had just listened to Titania, then they might have escaped. He wouldn’t have had to throw himself into danger to protect the others’ escape route. And he wouldn’t have been captured as a result of that.</p><p>He opened his eyes at that thought, pushing it aside. There was no time to beat himself up. He had to find a way out of this situation.</p><p>He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, wincing at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. His wrists were still scabbed over and bruised, throbbing painfully, and he took a moment to gently dab at them with the linen bedsheet. He would have to find a way to clean them before they got infected.</p><p>“I don’t hear the sounds of afterglow in there!”</p><p>The voice caused Ike to jump. It came from outside the door, and Ike realized that he wasn’t alone when Soren replied, “Good morning to you, too, Father.” Ike turned to see the prince sitting at his desk, just as he’d been the night before. It looked as if he hadn’t moved at all.</p><p>“Your guard told me of how you threatened him to let you out,” Ashnard said. Even behind thick wood and metal, his voice was intimidating. “You even tried to BRIBE him! What kind of prince tries to bribe his own guards?” Ike had a vague impression of that voice saying something to him before, when he’d been half-conscious in his cell. Had that truly been the Mad King himself, then?</p><p>“Did he?” Soren’s voice was casual, even as he clenched his fists in rage. “You should put him to death, then. He’s a snitch.”</p><p>“Perhaps you are right,” Ashnard said, “BUT I was VERY DISPLEASED to find out that you did NOT copulate with the son of Gawain!”</p><p>Ike’s heart skipped a beat. It was odd to hear his father referred to like that.</p><p>Soren stood and crossed to the door, finally giving into his emotions as he banged on it once with his fist. “If you want me to do it, then you’re going to have to come in here and MAKE me!”</p><p>“Is that SO?!”</p><p>Whether Soren realized that Ike was awake wasn’t clear, but he seemed to have dropped the cold façade of the previous night. Ike could only watch, almost fascinated by this odd familial disagreement. “What do you plan to do, keep us locked in here until we breed, like pet rabbits?”</p><p>“That would be the general idea, yes!”</p><p>“I’ll have you know that he’s already refused, so your plan won’t work! If you have half a wit left in your brain, you will heed my advice and give up this foolish idea!”</p><p>“NEVER! Daein needs an heir!”</p><p>“I’m imploring you, as your tactician, to give up!”</p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>The heated discourse stopped when Ike cleared his throat. Soren looked at him like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. “I expect results!” Ashnard barked from beyond the door. “Your meals will be served through the slot. You will not be allowed out of this room until I get an heir! The next time we speak, I expect for you to be expecting!”</p><p>Soren and Ike continued to stare at each other as Ashnard’s heavy footfalls faded down the corridor. Ike could see the mask slide into place, as Soren’s expression closed off and became indifferent once more. “Hungry?” he said.</p><p>“No,” Ike replied. “Well, yes. But I think we have a bigger problem.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Soren sat down at the desk again. “Breakfast will be brought soon,” he said.</p><p>“How do I get out of here?” Ike was determined not to lose sight of his goal. There was no way he was going to do anything intimate with the prince of Daein.</p><p>“You fuck me.” Ike flinched at the prince’s choice of words. For royalty, he had no qualms about using such a filthy term. “I get pregnant. You are set free. That’s how it goes.”</p><p>“I will not be used like that!”</p><p>Soren sighed, as if he had been expecting this answer. “You have no idea what Ashnard is capable of. And he is not a patient man…”</p><p>“What’s he gonna do, kill me?” Ike sneered at the thought. “I’d like him to try.” Open confrontation would be preferable to this.</p><p>“I was up all night thinking of ways you might escape.” That did surprise Ike a little. “There’s no way around it. Even if you made it out of this room, there are the guards to contend with. You couldn’t do it unarmed.”</p><p>“I could get hold of a weapon.”</p><p>“You’d be cut down before you reached the stairs.”</p><p>“Then I’d go out the window.”</p><p>Soren stood and pulled aside a set of heavy green curtains, revealing pale morning light gleaming on sparkling snow. Ike stepped cautiously over to stand just at arm’s length, close enough to see out the window but far enough that he didn’t have to feel the warmth of Soren’s body. “Even at this time of year, Daein is blanketed in snow and ice,” Soren said. Ike could see immediately that this was true. They were high above the landscape and everything was covered in white. It was a straight drop from the window, with no balconies in sight. The courtyard below was a blank field of snow. Armored guards stood around it, their spears pointed skyward.</p><p>“There’s no way to exit through the windows without being seen, even at night,” Soren said. “The roof is too slick to climb. If you want out of here, there are only two options.”</p><p>“Two?” Ike looked at him. “What other choice is there?”</p><p>“You would have to wait until late spring.” Soren was looking out at the expanse of snow and frost, his voice as cold as the scenery. “In three months, the snow will melt for the summer. At that time, it should be an easy matter to climb onto the roof and make your way to freedom from there.”</p><p>Ike considered it for a moment. “What if you fake a pregnancy?”</p><p>“No good,” Soren shook his head. “Father will have several healers check me over. He doesn’t trust me to tell for myself.”</p><p>“Damn…” Ike let out a sharp breath as he examined the narrow ledge outside. “So, to get out of here quickly, I have to… to…”</p><p>“Fuck me.”</p><p>“Would you not say it like that?” Ike scowled.</p><p>Soren gave a derisive snort. “How would <em>you</em> say it, then?”</p><p>“I don’t know. But I get the idea. I’d have to do that, if I want to leave quickly. But if I wait, then I can escape.”</p><p>“That’s the gist of it, yes.”</p><p>Ike nodded slowly. “OK, then. We’ll wait.”</p><p>“Oh?” Soren tried to keep the relief out of his voice.</p><p>“Yeah. I’m not touching you. I mean no offense, but that’s not…” Ike looked away then, his ears burning. “I mean, if I were to do that to you, and then there was a child… I couldn’t just leave as if nothing happened.”</p><p>Soren glanced at Ike, his eyebrow raised. “<em>That</em> is your primary concern?”</p><p>“Well, yeah. I don’t want to… to touch you like that, since neither of us want it.” He crossed his arms, leaning away a bit. “You don’t do things like that with someone unless you feel for them. Not that I have anyone I care about like that, but I don’t…” He took a moment to search for the right words. “I couldn’t do that to either of us. And if I left behind a child, I’d feel even worse. I wouldn’t want it growing up without a father.”</p><p>Soren continued to stare at him. “It has nothing to do with me being Branded?”</p><p>Now Ike turned to look at him, confusion written across his face. “What does that have to do with anything?”</p><p>Soren was left thunderstruck as Ike went to find the washbasin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Beginnings of a Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Hello!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ah!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… You aren’t supposed to be here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, this is my private training area.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wow, you’re training? Where’s your sword?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I use magic. Now, if you don’t mind—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You mean that book? That’s neat! I can’t even read yet!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t read? How old are you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Six and a half!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hmph. I’ve been able to read since I was two years old.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t doubt that. You look smart.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How can one ‘look smart’?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I dunno, you just do. Can I see some magic? Please?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… Fine, but only if you agree to leave after.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Great! Thanks!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Imbecile…”</em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>The wait began in silence. Ike and Soren spent the first day wrapped in their own minds, ignoring each other in favor of brooding about the current situation. Ike took his exercise in the middle of the floor, doing push-ups and sit-ups as Soren pointedly looked elsewhere. Soren kept busy at his desk, writing notes and poring over maps.</p><p>It was a small room, all things considered, but well furnished. The bed was large and warm, with the fire not far away. The desk was surrounded by tall, deep bookshelves that took up nearly an entire wall. Soren’s notes occupied the rest of the wall space – large maps, annotated in pristine writing, and smaller scraps of paper with coded letters spelling out indecipherable messages. Ike assumed that only Soren could read them; they seemed like gibberish to him.</p><p>There was a water closet with a flush toilet, and a tub in a curtained-off alcove. A changing screen stood beside a full-length mirror. Ike had been offered the morning bath, which he took gratefully. He was still covered in grime from the dungeons, and bruises and cuts from the battle. Though his wounds had been treated upon his capture, it was still wonderful to soak in a hot bath. He only had his worn trousers to change back into but being clean made a vast difference.</p><p>Food was brought three times that day, and Soren was irritated to find a little bottle of oil on each tray. “What are you doing?” Ike asked as Soren uncorked one bottle and went into the water closet.</p><p>“Disposing of this,” Soren said. He poured the contents into the toilet, careful to empty every drop.</p><p>“Isn’t that for the food?”</p><p>“It’s for personal use. If we return the bottles undisturbed, then Ashnard will grow suspicious.”</p><p>Ike’s frown dissipated into the most flustered expression Soren had ever seen on anyone. The prince almost laughed as he emptied the other bottles and returned them to the meal tray.</p><p>The king came to see them that evening, just as the dinner tray was being cleared away. “INSPECTION!” he bellowed, jerking Soren from his concentration and Ike from his thoughts. Soren sighed as he closed the tome in front of him.</p><p>“Why, how thoughtful of you to visit me,” Soren said.</p><p>“Hardly!” Ashnard barked. “I have come to ensure that you’re being obedient!”</p><p>Ike and Soren shared an alarmed look as the king’s hulking frame filled the doorway. The expression on his craggy face was displeased. “This is how I find you,” he said, stalking into the room. Ike stood from the bed; Soren remained where he was at the desk. “Fully clothed, hair neatly brushed…” He grabbed Soren’s arm and yanked him to his feet, examining his collar. “No marks! What kind of fornication leaves no visible marks?!”</p><p>“Let him go!” Ike spat, and Ashnard turned his glare on him. Soren’s wide eyes found Ike’s. The prince’s expression clearly said, <em>‘What are you doing, you fool?!’ </em></p><p>Ashnard’s cold, gray eyes raked up and down Ike’s body. “I see you bear not a scratch, either! I’m very disappointed in you both.” </p><p>Ike’s cheeks flushed red, but he kept his defiant stare on Ashnard. “You’re hurting him! Let him go!”</p><p>“Shut up!” Soren hissed, but he was released, all the same. He held his arms to his sides, refusing to show weakness by rubbing at the sore bruise forming on his wrist.</p><p>“You dare tell me how to treat my own son?” Ashnard’s voice was level, but chilling. Ike didn’t flinch.</p><p>“I don’t care who you are. I’m not going to stand here and watch you manhandle him,” Ike said.</p><p>“Well, then.” Ashnard took a step towards Ike. “Perhaps <em>you</em> should get over here and manhandle him, yourself! That’s why you’re HERE!”</p><p>The guards were still in the doorway, forming an impenetrable wall of armor and blade. A servant girl hurried away with the trays, the dishes clattering from her hasty retreat. Ashnard and Ike stared each other down. Ike knew that he had no chance to run, and the guards would be upon him if he attacked the king. But his anger had flared so hot upon seeing Ashnard that he’d had to speak out. He had wanted to provoke him, but now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do.</p><p>“Perhaps we should chain you up,” Ashnard mused. “I’m sure the prince could make better use of you if you were immobilized.” Ike’s jaw clenched.</p><p>“Father, would you leave?” Soren’s voice was weary, as if he were dealing with a petulant child. “Your presence is hardly conducive to a romantic mood.”</p><p>Ike and Ashnard both looked at Soren with the same shocked expression. “Romance?!” Ashnard scoffed. “What does romance have to do with it?”</p><p>“You have your proclivities, and I have mine,” Soren said. His gaze was steady, his expression almost bored.</p><p>Shaking his head, Ashnard stomped towards the door. “Nothing like your mother,” he said. “Now SHE knew how to ride cock!”</p><p>The door slammed shut behind Ashnard, and the locks were engaged. Soren resumed reading; Ike couldn’t stop staring at the door. His mouth opened, then closed; he really couldn’t think of anything to say. Fortunately, Soren didn’t seem inclined to talk; he simply forged ahead in whatever research he was conducting. Ike let himself relax a little and sat back down to resume his sit-ups.</p><p>As the clock on the mantel struck midnight, Soren closed his notebooks and stretched his back with an audible crack. Ike opened his eyes; he’d been dozing off on the bed. Wordlessly, he stood alongside Soren, who stopped to give him an odd look.</p><p>“I guess you’ll want the bed,” Ike said.</p><p>Soren’s red eyes shifted to the mattress, then back to Ike. Though his expression didn’t change, his ears turned slightly pink. “I hadn’t considered the matter of sleeping arrangements.”</p><p>Without a word, Ike strode to the corner of the room closest to the fireplace. He settled on the thick red carpet, leaning back into the wall. Tucking his chin on his chest, he crossed his arms and stuck out his legs and apparently prepared to sleep just like that.</p><p>“You don’t actually think that I’ll trust you enough to fall asleep,” Soren said.</p><p>Ike cracked an eye open. “Why wouldn’t you trust me? It’s not like I would kill you – where would I go after?”</p><p>He was right, of course, but Soren still felt uneasy as he rolled himself under the covers. Though he was exhausted from having no sleep the night before, it took a while for him to close his eyes, and even longer for him to finally drift off.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>The days stretched on. Each morning, Ike’s spine audibly popped as he stood up stiffly. Soren awoke with dark circles under his eyes, having had no more rest than Ike. They took turns at the water closet and the wash basin, alternating baths every day. They both stared out at the bright pink dawn over the snow, both gauging how thick it still was and how much longer they might have until it finally melted. They ate in silence the meals that were delivered thrice daily. Soren worked at his desk while Ike exercised. And they weathered Ashnard’s visits with a shared sense of annoyance.</p><p>The king didn’t check in on them every day, but he was frequent enough. “Still no marks, I see,” he said on one visit, his narrowed eyes glancing between his son and his prisoner. “I am beginning to think that this specimen,” he gestured to Ike as if he were a disobedient dog, “has trouble performing.”</p><p>“His performance isn’t an issue. You can hardly expect me to conceive in only a week,” Soren said. Ike had to admire the prince’s poise. He seemed annoyed with his father, though anyone could tell that it was a foolish thing to treat Ashnard lightly. Soren never faltered in the face of Ashnard’s fury. He regarded him with a cold indifference that sometimes bordered on pity.</p><p>“Be that as it may, I will have a healer come in a few days,” Ashnard said.</p><p>“Very well.” Soren didn’t even look up from his notes. His tone was completely flat.</p><p>Ashnard glared at his son for a moment before turning to Ike. “YOU need to be THERE,” he pointed to Soren, “or I will personally see to it that you will NEVER AGAIN feel anything between your legs!”</p><p>It was out of his mouth before he realized it. “I’d worry about your own loins, you sick pig.”</p><p>The first time he had provoked Ashnard, he had gotten off easily. Ike knew that now. He realized his mistake as soon as Ashnard’s teeth flashed in a wide grin. The blow came blindingly fast, far quicker than Ike had anticipated. Even at his age, even though he was nobility, Ashnard was no slouch; his fist connected with Ike’s gut like a stone block. A week and a half of captivity had Ike at a disadvantage, and his reflexes were slower than usual. The wind was knocked out of him, and he doubled over, stunned. A second later, another blow to his head sent him to the floor.</p><p>His ears were ringing, but he heard the sound of a chair scraping backward against the stone tile. “Stop!” someone said, and a dark figure blocked his view of Ashnard.</p><p>“I am disappointed. The son of Gawain, felled in two hits.”</p><p>“Would you get out, already?! If you want to have a brawl, go find a tavern!”</p><p>For a second, Ike wondered if Ashnard would hit Soren, as well. Instead, the king seemed to be satisfied with the brief burst of violence against Ike. “He should be nice and complacent for you.” Ashnard turned then; Ike could hear his heavy boots tapping against the floor. “Ride him well, son! Ride him for Daein!” The door slammed then, sending a sharp, shooting pain through Ike’s head.</p><p>Soren stood over him for a moment before he knelt. Ike felt cold, slim fingers around his bicep. “Can you stand?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He struggled to his feet, relying on Soren’s support more than he wanted to admit. “I wasn’t expecting it. He just caught me off guard.”</p><p>“Doesn’t help that you’re shirtless,” Soren said with a shake of his head. “He was wearing his heaviest gauntlets. Here, lie down.”</p><p>Ike did as he was told and lay on the bed. After the long, cold nights on the floor, it was a relief to his back. He let out a grunt as his spine adjusted. The constant ache had certainly not helped him during this encounter.</p><p>Soren was examining Ike’s abdomen, prodding now and then and frowning slightly. “You’re fortunate that he didn’t rupture anything,” he said. “A lesser man might have fallen unconscious.”</p><p>“A greater man wouldn’t have provoked him in the first place,” Ike said bitterly.</p><p>“Hm. If you acknowledge your mistake, then perhaps you won’t repeat it. I may not be able to save you next time.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Ike winced as Soren’s fingertips pressed into his navel, not sure whether his ego or his body hurt worse.</p><p>Soren moved away from the bed for a moment, returning with something that Ike couldn’t see in his peripheral vision (which was still swimming a little). A moment later, a white glow caused Ike to blink. He looked down to see Soren standing over him with a healing staff. “I didn’t know you could use one of those,” Ike said. The relief in his voice was audible; the pain was quickly ebbing away, and his head was clearing.</p><p>“Really? After all this time?” Soren said dryly.</p><p>“Well, thanks,” Ike said, leaning back against the pillows.</p><p>“The damage wasn’t serious, and I’ve minimized the bruising, at least. If there were any internal injuries, they should be healed. You’re no longer concussed.”</p><p>Ike watched as Soren put away the staff – oddly, in a hidden space between the bookshelf and the wall. He wanted to ask why it needed to be hidden. Instead, he asked, “Were you trained on the battlefield? I mean, as a healer.”</p><p>Soren sat at his desk, facing away from Ike. After a moment, he said, “I primarily use wind and thunder magic. Daein does not employ many healers in battle, and the king would never approve of my using such a soft art.”</p><p>“So, you <em>have</em> seen battle.”</p><p>The scratch of a quill on parchment filled the room once more. “It hasn’t been long since I was last on the front lines.”</p><p>“I’m not too surprised. I’ve met lots of nobles who fight on the field.” Ike winced as he shifted to sit up. His head was still spinning a bit. “I used to think nobles always sent others to do their fighting for them.”</p><p>“Only the pathetic ones,” Soren snorted. “In Daein, we believe in strength above all – only the strongest may rise to the position of nobility.”</p><p>“Is that what <em>you</em> believe?”</p><p>Soren glanced at Ike over his shoulder. “I believe what the king believes. His word is law.”</p><p>The conversation dropped after that. The scratch-scratch-skritch continued. Ike closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest. Then, Soren spoke. “I saw you four years ago, at Talrega.”  </p><p>Ike’s eyes snapped open. “You were at Talrega?”</p><p>“I was.”</p><p>It was like opening an old book. Ike could see the muddy fields, the vast dam looming before them. “I don’t remember seeing you.”</p><p>“I was the one who ordered General Petrine to retreat.”</p><p>“You did?” Ike searched his memory further. He had seen Petrine on the wall of the fort. She had been talking with somebody – though Ike hadn’t been able to see the person. They had been obscured by a black wyvern. Before he’d gotten a good look, his father had ordered him back. It had seemed imminent that the Daein forces would open the floodgates, but as the wyvern took off into the sky, Petrine and her soldiers retreated. “You were…” Ike frowned. “You were the one on the wyvern?”</p><p>“Yes,” Soren said. His hand never stopped as he scribbled out his notes.</p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p>It was rude, Ike thought, to ask. But propriety had never been important to him, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t important to Soren, either. He didn’t sound offended when he said, “Twenty-one.”</p><p>Ike counted backward in his head. “You’d have been seventeen, then,” he said.</p><p>“An astute observation.”</p><p>Ike could remember being that age, himself. He and the rest of the mercenaries – his family – had been drawn into the conflict before he was even a full member of the company. “That wasn’t my first battle,” he said without knowing why he’d said it.</p><p>“I know. We were already tracking your progress at that time,” Soren said. “You were impressive, even then. And easy to spot, with that sword of yours.”</p><p>“What about you?” Ike wasn’t interested in hearing how impressive he was. He’d heard quite enough of that in his time as a general. “Was that your first time?”</p><p>“No. I entered my first battle on my twelfth birthday.”</p><p>Ike balked. “Twelve?” He thought immediately of Rolf, who hadn’t been much older when he’d been drawn into battle, himself.</p><p>“Mm. Father thought it was a fitting birthday present.” Soren dipped his quill into the inkwell, giving it two blots before resuming his writing. “I had made my first kill a few months prior, and he wanted to reward me.”</p><p>“You killed someone when you were eleven?”</p><p>“An assassin. It was pure luck, but Father was pleased, nonetheless.”</p><p>Ike could recall his first kill. He’d been only fifteen then, and it still haunted him if he slowed down to think about it. By now, the blood on his hands was permanent. It would never wash away. He wondered if Soren felt the same way. “Were you scared?” he found himself asking.</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>They didn’t talk again for the rest of the evening. But Ike was told to remain in bed, and he didn’t protest as Soren stayed at his desk. After a week on the floor, his back needed some relief.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>“We have a problem.”</p><p>Ike looked up from the floor, holding his weight on one arm with the other tucked behind his back. “No kidding?” he grunted, not missing a beat as he counted push-ups in his head.</p><p>Soren was sitting at his desk as usual. He had his chin resting on his folded hands, his elbows bent, and his gaze fixed on the spread of notes in front of him. “The healer is coming soon.”</p><p>“So?” Lowering himself again, Ike swapped arms and resumed his push-ups. He was determined not to be caught off guard next time Ashnard appeared. He had to stay in shape however he could.</p><p>“They’re going to check to see if I’m pregnant.”</p><p>“You said – it doesn’t always – happen easily,” Ike panted. “Shouldn’t that buy us – enough time?”</p><p>“That’s not the issue.” The tension in Soren’s shoulders was obvious. “I’m intact.”</p><p>“Intact?”</p><p>“I’m a virgin.”</p><p>Ike’s arm buckled, and he pushed himself to the side, sitting up. “They can tell that?”</p><p>Soren was still frowning at his desk. “I hadn’t considered that, but… I believe they can. They will certainly examine me fully.”</p><p>Ike was beginning to understand. “What do you think your father will do if he finds out that we haven’t…?”</p><p>“Hard to say.” Soren shuffled the papers into a neat pile, and then rearranged them on the surface of the desk once more. Only he knew the meaning of these odd patterns; Ike could only speculate. “The best scenario? He kills you and finds someone else to impregnate me.”</p><p>“That’s the <em>best</em> case?” The general could hardly believe this. “I almost don’t want to ask what the worst case would be.”</p><p>“He could restrain us and force us to fit together.”</p><p>Ike didn’t need to try to picture that. He balked. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”</p><p>“He certainly would.” Soren turned in his seat to look at Ike critically. “I have no idea how fixated he is on having you father the heir. I’m not sure if he would dispose of you, or if he would go to any lengths to extract from you.”</p><p>A shudder raced up Ike’s spine at the word “extract”. “So, what’s the plan?”</p><p>“I have to convince a healer that I’ve had sex.”</p><p>“And… how are you going to do that?”</p><p>Soren glanced around the room. “I can’t think of anything suitable… Hmm…” He reached to his leg, lifted his robe aside, and withdrew a dagger that he’d hidden at his thigh. The way he examined its gleaming black handle made Ike’s blood run cold.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that.”</p><p>“Hm?” Soren’s eyes lifted to meet Ike’s inquisitively.</p><p>Ike was staring into Soren’s eyes, deeply. It was somewhat unnerving. “There has to be a way… Look, I don’t want you to kill yourself – not just because of what might happen to me, but because it’s not worth—”</p><p>“I’m not so cowardly,” Soren scowled. “I was looking at the handle.”</p><p>“The handle?” The confusion on Ike’s face prompted Soren to roll his eyes. He was clueless.</p><p>“I need something to penetrate me. Something large enough to leave visible evidence – stretching, or bruising, or tearing.”</p><p>Ike’s face went scarlet. “Oh.”</p><p>“This should do.” Soren stood and carried the dagger behind the dressing screen. Ike could see his silhouette very faintly against the yellow linen, and he quickly turned away.</p><p>“Should I, uh…” Ike wasn’t sure what he should do. He couldn’t leave the room. “I can go into the closet,” he said lamely.</p><p>“Would you just shut up?” There was the shifting of cloth from behind the screen. Ike focused on the sound of his own breathing so he wouldn’t have to hear anything else, but his ears detected a faint disturbance. It was like something sliding through oil, like the glide of skin against skin. And then, hardly audible, a gasp.</p><p>Ike stood up and began a series of lunges. This was weird. What made it even weirder was the warmth spreading between his legs. That hadn’t happened in a long, long time – and it had never happened around other people before. Usually, this kind of thing was what Ike had woken up to in his early adolescence. He had never experienced it when fully conscious.</p><p>After a few moments, Ike could hear Soren putting his clothes back on. The prince emerged from behind the screen, tucking his sash neatly into place. Ike didn’t miss the slight stiffness in his posture, though. “Are you OK?” he asked, earning a glare.</p><p>“I’m fine. Mind your own business.”</p><p>Ike resumed his lunges, but Soren faltered as he went back to his desk. Ike crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “You should lie down,” he said firmly, ignoring Soren’s attempts to pull away.</p><p>“I’m fine, I said!”</p><p>“No, you’re not.” Ike steered the prince bodily to the bed. “See? You can hardly walk straight. You’re in pain.”</p><p>“It’s temporary.” There was a deep flush on Soren’s cheeks now, and Ike suddenly became very aware of their proximity. He let go of Soren’s shoulder. “It didn’t hurt very much, and I’m not injured.”</p><p>“All the same, you should rest for a bit.” Ike stepped back, blocking Soren’s path to his desk. “What’s it gonna hurt if you take a day off? It’s not like you’re going anywhere any time soon.”</p><p>Soren could find no flaw in Ike’s logic, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at him again. He reclined carefully on the pillows, the ache within him shooting up his spine and making him wince. He really hadn’t used enough oil, he thought; nor had he prepared himself properly. He had been so focused on getting it over with that he’d just thrust the rough handle inside. Briefly, he wondered how much it would hurt if he had to take Ike inside.</p><p>He shuddered.</p><p>“Hey, take it easy…” Ike’s hand rested again on his shoulder, and Soren looked into those warm blue eyes. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Ike hurting him like that. Enemies though they were, Ike didn’t seem like the type to hurt anyone off of the battlefield.</p><p>For just a moment, he saw it – clear sky, even clearer eyes, a smile – and then it was gone. Ike went to resume his exercises. Soren closed his eyes, trying to recapture that image. But no matter how he pursued it, it remained elusive, and he ended up chasing it into a light doze.</p><p>His dreams were spent wandering an endless corridor, looking for something but not knowing what.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ZOMG they knew each other as kids?!?! Psh, yes, because I love that trope. Like you didn't see that one coming. :P Also, more backstory is sprinkled in. I didn't want to just do a huge exposition dump at the beginning, so you find out gradually about the timeline here. At least, I tried to make it gradual. Hopefully it's not too fast or slow!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Change in Tactics</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just want to say that Ike and Soren are going to take a while to warm up to each other, so no Priam until waaaaay later in the story. Please bear with me! I've never really done a slow burn fic before, so I hope I get the pacing right.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“One day, I’m going to be a knight like my father.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that so?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah! See, I even have my own training sword!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Impressive. But don’t you have aspirations of your own?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Huh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Isn’t there anything you want to do, just because you want to?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, yeah! Someday, when I’m a knight, I’ll take you away to live with me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can study all day, and nobody will mess with you. And when people talk about you, I can scare them with my sword. We’ll live together, and play all the time, and you can meet my family…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… That is the most ridiculous thing… Why would you say something like that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why not? I like playing with you. Don’t you like playing with me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… Y- yes… But that doesn’t mean that we can live together!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“When we’re grown, we can do what we want. You’re a prince, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you before, princes don’t just get to do whatever they—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But I’ll be a knight! Then when you become king, I can come live with you here, and we can fight together all the time.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… Sometimes I think you have your head in the clouds.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s what my mom says.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No wonder.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Come on, it’ll be great! Then you won’t have to worry about assassins or people saying bad stuff, because I’ll always be right there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You really are an idealist, huh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My mom says that, too!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, Ike…”</em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>“Still no marks, I see.”</p><p>Soren ignored the comment in favor of pouring himself more wine. He wasn’t about to let himself be unnerved. “Our forces did well at the border,” he said nonchalantly.</p><p>“The healer will be here any minute,” Ashnard said with a sneer. “We shall see just how busy you have been!”</p><p>“We really should divert a few more archers to the front,” Soren said, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a careful sip.</p><p>“If you haven’t copulated, then I will strap him down and make you! I hope you understand that this is no mere threat, but a promise!”</p><p>“Mages, too, if we can spare them.”</p><p>“Don’t ignore me, boy!”</p><p>“I’m not.” Soren looked into the deep burgundy liquid. “I’m just discussing a more important topic.”</p><p>“The future of Daein <em>is</em> an important topic.” Ashnard gulped his own wine and refilled his glass. “If all goes well, I shall secure my line at the same time that I establish my empire. Gallia will fall by the time the heir is born.”</p><p>A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of the healer. Soren set down his glass. She was a stern-looking woman, older and probably one of the senior members of the castle’s medical staff. She crossed the anteroom with a brisk walk, a towel over her arm and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched lightly on her nose.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” she said with a stiff curtsy. Ashnard pointed to the couch, and Soren obeyed the silent command. He loosened the sash of his robes, staring at nothing in particular as the layers began to fall away.</p><p>He lay down when he was bidden, the healer’s cold hands going right for his bare legs. He held his robes open for her. The carved patterns on the ceiling became a kaleidoscope as his vision blurred, as his mind took him somewhere else. He saw his notes before him, his charts and maps, and carefully retraced them as bony fingers pushed and poked at him. Whether Ashnard had turned away or not was of little consequence. There was no point in being humiliated either way, so he ignored everything and thought about his escape plan for Ike.</p><p>“Well?” Ashnard’s sharp voice marked the end of the examination. Soren let his robes fall shut with a sigh of fabric against fabric.</p><p>“No signs of pregnancy,” the healer said brusquely. Soren could only imagine her disgust with him – a freak of nature in two ways, evidenced by the mark on his forehead and by the arrangement of his body. Again, he reminded himself of how useless shame was, and ignored the feeling.</p><p>“Is he intact?”</p><p>“No. He’s been bedded.”</p><p>“Really!” This seemed to surprise Ashnard. Soren sat up to find his father looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you certain about that?”</p><p>“There is clear evidence of coitus,” the healer’s tone was almost insulted. Soren had no doubt that she resented the implication that she didn’t know what she was talking about. “Lacerations and bruising indicate a recent coupling.”</p><p>“Bruising!” Ashnard laughed. “Bruising, you say! Well, that is fine news! You are dismissed.”</p><p>He was chuckling even as the healer made her exit. Soren stood and straightened his clothes while Ashnard went to sit at the table. “I underestimated you, boy! Or perhaps I underestimated him.”</p><p>“I thought that you disapproved of gentle intercourse.” Soren went to sit opposite the king, picking up a basket of rolls.</p><p>“I do. But fucked is fucked, no matter how you got there.” Ashnard dropped an entire lamb haunch onto his own plate. “Keep it up, and we should expect results in a few weeks. You are doing it every day, I assume?”</p><p>“And every night,” Soren said casually.</p><p>“So, my gift turned out not to be as egregious as you first thought.”</p><p>“No, he is quite… comely.” Soren could feel his face heating up a bit in the firelight. He focused on cutting his meat, not meeting Ashnard’s smug gaze.</p><p>“Took you long enough to admit it,” Ashnard said, tearing into his food with gusto. His mood seemed greatly improved. “But I know the nature of men, and the nature of women.” Soren’s grip tightened a bit on his fork and knife. “Your mother was greedy for it, too. You are truly her child.”</p><p>“Spare me,” Soren groaned.</p><p>After that, Ashnard seemed glad to return the conversation to battle tactics. Soren was more than grateful for this. It was only at the end, as Ashnard was escorting him back to his room, that the king said, “Perhaps if you play your cards well, you may yet win him over.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Soren glanced up at Ashnard. The king was walking with his gaze fixed ahead, as usual, but there was a bounce in his step that was seldom there. It was disturbing.</p><p>Ashnard said nothing. He wasn't prone to explaining his thoughts to anyone, even to his chief tactician. Soren’s heart fluttered. His mind began to race. He thought he could see where Ashnard was coming from, and he said, almost certain of himself, “You chose him on purpose.”</p><p>Ashnard smirked. "Nothing gets past you, eh, boy?" </p><p>Soren's heart dropped into his stomach. "You never planned to let him go, did you?" </p><p>“I am not so foolish as to let my prey slip past me,” Ashnard said with a laugh. “I hadn't yet decided between executing him and imprisoning him for life, but this…! What a fine day it’s turned out to be! I may not need to do either, as long as you continue to seduce him." </p><p>A heavy hand descended onto Soren’s back. He was patted twice, harshly, before being pushed into his room. The door slammed shut, and the lock engaged with a final click.</p><p>Ike had apparently been asleep, but he bolted upright when the door closed. Soren stood leaning against the wood, listening for Ashnard’s steps to fade. The lighter steps of the guard soon reached his ears, and he made sure that the sentries had passed before he pushed away and walked towards the bed. Ike said nothing, waiting patiently for Soren to report what had happened.</p><p>“The healer was fooled,” Soren said, sitting on the mattress opposite Ike. “Ashnard was very pleased. He thinks that we’ve been carrying on, and he expects an heir soon.”</p><p>“Good,” Ike said. “That’s good, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Soren said pensively.</p><p>“Then why do you look so worried?” </p><p>Soren chewed his lower lip slightly. He examined the pattern on the coverlet, seeing notes and maps. “He expects you to join his army, once your job here is done.” He was certain of it now. That had to be the plan. Soren felt like a fool. He had actually believed that Ashnard would let Ike go. </p><p>“What?!” Ike leaned forward, his fists clenching in the sheets. “I’m not going to—”</p><p>“Quiet!” Soren hissed. “He’s going to try to recruit you. Possibly as a general.”</p><p>“And if I refuse?”</p><p>“Then he’ll carry through with his original plan to execute you.”</p><p>“His original plan…” Ike frowned. “You mean, he wasn’t going to let me go, after all?”</p><p>“No.” Soren shook his head. “I misjudged his intent. It seems that this is personal – possibly a vendetta against your father, if I had to guess." </p><p>Ike let out a frustrated sigh. “That's why, then. In the dungeon, he kept saying that I would repay my father's debt..."</p><p>Soren stood up and smoothed out his robes. He walked to the window and stared out at the darkness, seeing only his own reflection. “Tell me… What do you know of your father’s past?”</p><p>Ike was silent for a moment. Soren almost thought that he wouldn’t answer, when he said, “My dad used to work for Ashnard. As a knight. And I only found that out after he died.”</p><p>“That is essentially true.” Soren fingered his sleeve thoughtfully. “Your father was once Sir Gawain, strongest of Daein’s Four Riders. He was a general in the king’s army.”</p><p>Ike nodded. “OK. So, he left, and Ashnard wasn’t happy about it.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“I remember…” Ike’s frown deepened, the furrows between his brows dark in the shadows. “I remember when we left Daein… vaguely.”</p><p>“You do?” Soren raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Yeah. I was only… five or six, I think. I remember we lived in a castle, for a time. Then we moved to a warmer country – Crimea. I know it was a lot warmer than where we’d lived before, but I didn’t… I never really realized that I used to live in Daein.” Ike looked up at the ceiling, apparently seeing something far away. “It was a long time ago… I don’t really remember much about it. But I think he left then.”</p><p>“That’s right… He did. I remember it well, because Ashnard wouldn’t stop ranting about it.” For a moment, he saw the boy in the garden again. He blinked, and the image faded from his mind.</p><p>“So, Ashnard has a grudge against my father, and that’s why…”</p><p>“That is precisely why he chose you. I see that now.” Soren resumed worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “This was his plan all along. He wanted the next heir to be of Gawain’s line, so he could reclaim it as his own. Gawain’s abandonment stands out as a sore spot for him, particularly because he was Ashnard’s strongest asset. It was a dire blow to him. He had planned to have you father the heir, and then he would dispose of you. But now, he thinks that I somehow have you under my control. He believes that I can persuade you to serve under him.”</p><p>“Insane… He really is crazy, isn’t he?”</p><p>“You have no idea,” Soren said seriously. Then his eyes narrowed. Something had occurred to him.</p><p>Ike shook his head. “If he thinks that will actually work, then he’s…”</p><p>“He’s right.”</p><p>Ike’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Soren smirked as the pieces suddenly clicked into place. He turned to face Ike, who seemed put off by his sudden shift in mood. Perhaps Ike thought him as mad as his father. Perhaps he <em>was </em>as mad as his father. “You are going to fall in love with me.”</p><p>The blank look on Ike’s face almost made Soren laugh. “… What?”</p><p>“We can use his plan to our advantage. If he truly believes that your fortitude is so weak, then we can indulge him in that fantasy. You can play the part of the besotted lunkhead, and he’ll be reassured.”</p><p>“Uh… Why would I do that?”</p><p>“To take him off guard, of course.” He lowered his voice as he came towards the bed. Ike seemed to pull back just a bit. “If we make him believe that his plan has worked, then he will see no need for your continued imprisonment. If we can play our parts well enough, then…”</p><p>“Then I can just walk out of here.” Ike’s expression cleared suddenly, and he leaned forward, speaking quietly, as well. “That’s brilliant! You really think he’ll fall for it?”</p><p>“He would love nothing more than to fall for his own delusions,” Soren said. “But you will have to be convincing. We can’t suddenly start acting like lovers, or he’ll know that it’s a ruse. We have to do this carefully.”</p><p>Blue eyes stared into red, and Ike nodded. “Alright. I’ll follow your lead. I trust you to get me out of here.”</p><p>That took Soren back a little. “You are far too trusting… But I will do what I can.”</p><p>Ike nodded, never breaking eye contact, and Soren’s heart fluttered a bit. “Thanks.”</p><p>“It’s not just for you.” Soren stood again and went to his desk. “I want my room back.”</p><p>Ike’s low chuckle reached his ears, and Soren shook off the feeling of elation that swept through him. They had a plan.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>“This seems a bit… strange.”</p><p>“Relax. I won’t bite.”</p><p>Ike glanced up at Soren with a raised brow. “That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Soren pushed Ike’s head back down onto his lap. The prince’s thighs were softer than Ike had expected – he tried not to think about that, though. Right now, he had to pretend to be asleep. “He’ll check on us today,” Soren had said. “I’m certain of it.” And so here they were, on the bed, Soren with a book and Ike with his head in Soren’s lap. It was awkward, though not uncomfortable – and the fact that it wasn’t uncomfortable was even more awkward for Ike.</p><p>“When he opens the door, I want you to shift as if your sleep has been disturbed, but not wake.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Just move a little, but don’t open your eyes.”</p><p>Ike sighed, wondering how they were going to pull this off. He was focused on ignoring the warmth of Soren’s body; how was he going to act like a disturbed sleeper?</p><p>“You won’t have to say or do anything, so just lie there and pretend to be asleep.” A hand, slim and cool, came to rest on Ike’s cheek. He nearly jumped. “I can hear footsteps. Now, relax.”</p><p>Ike stilled and shut his eyes tight, then remembered that he’d been advised not to do that. He tried to relax his face, mimicking the stance he often took as a child when he pretended not to be eavesdropping on his parents while he was supposed to be sleeping. Soren’s warmth was a distraction, though, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his mind on track. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Soren’s legs weren’t muscular at all, instead being quite soft beneath Ike’s head. He could sense the shape of them beneath Soren’s robes, and it felt as if he were doing something wrong. He wondered if this were strange at all for Soren – the prince was as cool as could be, holding his book open with one hand while his other played lightly over Ike’s jaw. The hair on Ike’s arms stood up, and he tried not to shiver at the pleasant feeling.</p><p>Footsteps approached in the corridor outside, and then the lock clicked. “INSPECTION!” Ashnard barked as he threw the door open. Soren didn’t flinch, and Ike found himself impressed. He had had to focus intently to keep his leg from twitching at the sudden noise.</p><p>The prince didn’t even look up from his book. “If it pleases Your Majesty,” he said in a hushed voice, “I ask that you keep your voice down. He’s asleep.”</p><p>Whatever the king thought about this tender display, he didn’t let on. Nor did he lower his voice. “Dallying in bed all day?”</p><p>“He wore himself out last night. I’m allowing him to sleep.”</p><p>“And what of you, boy? He didn’t ‘wear himself out’ all by himself, did he?” Ashnard sounded suspicious.</p><p>Without any emotion, Soren said, “This research will not conduct itself. I have no time to rest.”</p><p>“Right you are. The Four are awaiting your report.” Ashnard turned and stalked back towards the door. “Good work, both of you! Keep it up, for Daein!”</p><p>The door shut once more (just as loudly as usual), and Soren relaxed with a sigh of relief. “He didn’t stay long,” Ike observed as he sat up.</p><p>“He saw what he wanted to see,” Soren said. “Good work.”</p><p>“Yeah. Uh, you, too.” Ike could feel his face burning. Soren got out of bed and returned to his desk.</p><p>The scratching of quill on parchment formed a familiar and lulling backdrop, and Ike began to relax a little. He felt somewhat recovered from his strange episode as he got up and began his workout. “Do you think he bought it?”</p><p>“Mm.” Soren tapped his lower lip with the tip of his pen. “He was convinced. Did you see the way he was grinning?”</p><p>“So, he’ll be off our backs soon?”</p><p>“Oh, no. He’s going to continue to pester us. But now, he believes that you’re going along with this. At least, somewhat willingly.” Soren looked at Ike critically. “If we’re patient, we can pull this off. But I need you to keep your temper in check.”</p><p>“I can do that,” Ike said, and sank to the floor to start push-ups.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Demonstration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did not plan to take a week off from writing, but, well... Things happened. Things always happen, don't they? That's life, huh? </p><p>Anyway, I'm getting a bit bored of Soren's little room - as is Ike! We'll be venturing out more and more from here on out. Pour one out for Ike's patience!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The boy is beginning to get upset. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s a foreign feeling to him – to be upset with his parents. In his short life, he’s never had reason to be cross with them. But he’s starting to believe that he’s been misled. He stares out the window of their little house, frowning at the verdant scene. The grass is green, the trees are green, the bushes and shrubs that surround the yard are green. Everything is far too green here. Green is for summer days, fleeting and meant to be savored. Green is not meant for so early in the spring. Ike hasn’t seen snow since they came here a month ago. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What perturbs him the most is that his questions are being ignored. “When will we go back home?” he asks almost every day. “Soon, darling,” his mother says. “Mind your chores,” his father says. They never tell him anything solid. He isn’t used to that. They’ve always been very honest with him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After over a month of not knowing when this vacation would end, Ike had had enough. “Father!” he says, demanding Greil’s attention. For his part, Greil doesn’t seem surprised. He doesn’t even look up from his sword as he polishes the gleaming gold metal. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What is it, Ike?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“When are we going home?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A long sigh. “We are home,” Greil says after a moment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ike shakes his head. “No, I mean the castle. When are we going back to the castle?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We aren’t.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy doesn’t know how to handle this sudden revelation. He balls his little fists and stares hard at his father. “I want to go home!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ike, hush.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I need to go back!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hush!” his father barks. Ike flinches, but then plants his feet firmly and faces the man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I want to go home NOW!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“IKE!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This reprimand cows him, and he backs up a bit, hunching and turning slightly away. His eyes brim with hot tears. “I- I just…” He sniffs. “What about my friend?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Greil resumes tending to his sword. His voice is clipped when he says, “I’m sorry. You’ll have to make new friends here. We aren’t returning.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why?” Ike’s voice cracks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All Greil says is, “I’m sorry, Ike.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>No amount of asking draws the answers from either of his parents. His mother holds him as he cries, until he grows frustrated and pushes her away, running outside to hit the oak tree with his pretend sword. He slashes and hacks, until the stick breaks and he’s left panting hard, tears drying on his cheeks, anger and sorrow turning a bright spring day gray. </em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Ike awoke at the sudden shutting of the door, the voices echoing in his mind. The words didn’t make sense to him, as if they had been spoken in a foreign language. And the syllables themselves, confusing though they were, faded as soon as Soren spoke. “It’s not like you to sleep during the day.”</p><p>“Didn’t get much last night.” It would be more accurate to say that he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the entire three weeks that he’d been here.</p><p>“Well, I have good news, in any case.” Soren went to stand in front of the bookshelf, apparently perusing the selection. “We’re going to be allowed out of this room.”</p><p>“What? Really?” Ike sat up, fully alert now.</p><p>“An excursion in the courtyard,” Soren said. “You will be under heavy guard, but it’s something, at least.” He pulled a green-bound book from the shelf and sat at the desk with it.</p><p>“Alright, what’s the plan?”</p><p>“The plan is to have an excursion in the courtyard,” Soren said, glancing at Ike with warning in his tone. “We can’t enact an escape plan yet. This outing is intended to build a sense of security. Ashnard would never trust you, but we can at least make him believe that your desire to flee has abated.”</p><p>Ike tried not to let himself feel disappointed. He had to be patient. But it was difficult not to feel like a bird with clipped wings, whose cage door has suddenly been opened – the opportunity was there, but he was unable to fly. “Are you sure there’s no chance? What if we send the guard away, and—”</p><p>Soren cut him off. “You will be heavily guarded, and possibly restrained. It would be foolish to attempt an escape.”</p><p>Ike growled in frustration. “How do I know that you’re not just trying to keep me here, too?”</p><p>Soren’s glare was frigid. “Believe me, I want you gone as much as you want to leave. I have also been cooped up here. And recall that, had I wanted to, I could have kept you tied down and had my way with you already.”</p><p>“Right. Sorry, I’m just…” Ike let out a heavy breath. He was getting anxious. “I’m worried about my friends. I haven’t heard anything about them for three weeks.” He looked to Soren, but the tactician had turned away.</p><p>“I’ve told you that I have no news for you,” Soren said, detecting the unasked question.</p><p>Ike knew that he would have to be content with that. No news was good news, in this case, and he surmised that Titania and Ranulf were leading the army well in his absence. If they hadn’t been captured or killed, then that was enough.</p><p>“My whole family is fighting for Gallia,” Ike said after a while.</p><p>“I know. Your sister and your mother, right?” Soren shuffled some papers. “We have profiles on them, as well.”</p><p>“Them, too, but I mean the entire company. The Greil Mercenaries.” Ike lay down again, staring up at the ceiling. “They’re all my family.”</p><p>“Hm.” Soren seemed to only be half-listening.</p><p>Ike had never been much of a talker, but now he wondered if that was due to his upbringing. He had always had people around to do the talking – mercenaries bantering as they trained or worked or ate, his sister yammering at him, his mother singing to herself as she went about her day. In the prince’s room, most days were silent as the grave, with only the sound of Soren’s writing to keep him company. After three weeks, Ike was starved of human interaction, despite the close quarters.</p><p>“What about you?” he asked. “Do you have any siblings?”</p><p>Soren snorted humorlessly. “My parents couldn’t stand each other long enough to have any more children.”</p><p>“So, your mother. Is she…?”</p><p>“Gone to her own country,” Soren said without any hint of sentimentality. “The king sent her there many years ago, against her will.”</p><p>“Huh…” Ike’s attempt at drawing Soren into conversation had backfired. He searched for something to say. “Must’ve been hard on you.”</p><p>“I hardly remember it. I was very young.”</p><p>Silence descended for a moment. Then, Ike said, “I lost my father two years ago.”</p><p>“He died at Melior,” Soren said. “I’m well aware. I was present when it happened.” He glanced at Ike. “Do you expect an apology from me?”</p><p>“You didn’t kill him,” Ike said simply.</p><p>“You forget that I am King Ashnard’s tactician. It’s because of me that Daein was able to capture Crimea.” Despite Soren’s cold demeanor, there was remorse in his voice.</p><p>“You’re just like any soldier, though. You fight because you have to.”</p><p>“That’s strangely pragmatic of you,” Soren said. “What if I had killed him with my own hand?”</p><p>“Then I would have cut you down the way I cut down Zelgius.” Ike’s voice was bitter as he recalled that fateful battle. Revenge had been almost instantaneous; Ragnell had dispatched the warrior before Ike had even known the extent of Greil’s injuries. It was little comfort to him.</p><p>“Your father was an excellent warrior in his time,” Soren said. “We were all surprised to see him fall.”</p><p>“Is that your way of offering comfort?”</p><p>“It’s not comfort I’m offering. But I thought that you would like to know how highly regarded he was, even among his enemies.”</p><p>That was a consoling gesture if he knew one, though the prince was denying it. “Thanks. He really was something… My mother misses him a lot.” No comment was forthcoming from Soren, so Ike went on, rambling, lost in his own reminiscence. “I told her to stay in Melior when we got caught up in this conflict, but she insisted on coming with us. She’s stubborn that way. I guess it’s a trait that we all have – my father, Mother, even Mist. And me.” Ike let out a long breath. “Father was always complaining about how stubborn I am.”</p><p>When Soren didn’t comment, Ike said, “Do you have any friends here?”</p><p>“No,” Soren didn’t turn from his work.</p><p>“Everybody needs someone to talk to,” Ike said.</p><p>“Talking will get you in trouble here.”</p><p>“You’re talking to me now,” Ike pointed out.</p><p>“Only because you won’t shut up.”</p><p>Ike felt a bit of pride in having rankled the usually unflappable prince. “I think I’m going crazy from all the solitude. I’m used to a lot of activity going on around me. This has been different, to say the least…”</p><p>Again, Soren had no comment.</p><p>“You said your mother is in her own country. Where is that?”</p><p>“Goldoa,” Soren said, and Ike’s face registered some surprise.</p><p>“That’s the land of the dragons, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So, you’re part dragon?”</p><p>“Yes.” Was that a bitter undertone in Soren’s voice?</p><p>“That must be fun – to transform into a dragon.”</p><p>“I cannot transform,” Soren said, now obviously annoyed. “The Branded have no special powers, beyond the marks that separate us from society at large.”</p><p>Ike could hear the irritation in Soren’s voice, so he changed course. “Do you miss your mother?”</p><p>“Why do you want to know?”</p><p>“Just making conversation.”</p><p>Soren stared at him for a moment before turning away again. “You’re as bad at it as I am.”</p><p>Ike huffed, though part of him conceded that Soren was probably right. He could think of nothing more to say, so he grudgingly allowed the silence to return.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>The outing was scheduled two days later. Soren came back from a meeting with the generals with four guards in tow, and for a heart-stopping moment, Ike thought that he was going to be relocated to the dungeons – or worse, executed. Had Soren finally convinced Ashnard to get rid of him? As two of the guards took hold of his arms, Ike began to pull against them. “What’s going on?” he demanded.</p><p>Instead of answering him, Soren waved the guards off. “There’s no need for that. In any case, we have to wait for his clothing to arrive.”</p><p>“My clothing?”</p><p>Soren looked at him strangely. “We’re going outside now. I told you about this days ago.”</p><p>“Oh.” Ike relaxed a little. “But what’s this about clothes?”</p><p>“You can hardly go outside like that,” Soren said, glancing up and down Ike’s half-naked body. Ike looked down at himself; he could see Soren’s point.</p><p>“You and I will go to the gardens,” Soren said as he went to file some papers at his desk. “We will spend an hour outside, and then return to my room. You are under orders to refrain from touching anything or going anywhere else, on pain of death. Your wrists will be shackled together.”</p><p>“Is that really necessary?” Ike grunted, but fell silent when Soren shot him a disapproving look. If it would get him outside in the fresh air, he would have to do it.</p><p>A servant arrived with a bundle of clothes – thick wool trousers in maroon, a quilted doublet of light gray, and a fur-lined cloak. They were not high-quality, but they were still nicer than Ike’s battle-torn pants. He vaguely wondered if Soren had pulled some strings to get him something other than prisoner’s rags, but he dismissed the thought. Why would the prince go out of his way to do that? Ike changed into the clothes, grateful for their warmth. He’d almost forgotten what wearing a shirt felt like.</p><p>None of the guards looked directly at him or at Soren as they clapped iron bands over Ike’s wrists. His arms were secured in front, for which he was glad, and a chain was latched to the bar between them. Soren took the end of the chain from the guard and led Ike to the door on the short leash. “Come along,” he said with a smirk, and fury flared in Ike’s chest for just a moment. He wanted to plant his feet, yank the chain out of that slim hand, and show the prince that he could not be led around like a dog.</p><p>Of course, under the present circumstances, he could be.</p><p>Even if Soren was enjoying this, Ike had no way to retaliate. So, he followed Soren, flanked by the four guards, and focused on memorizing the path they were taking. The corridors were wide and decorated with old armor. Ancient weapons, well maintained, were mounted high on the walls. The floor and walls were black as ebony, contrasting with the red carpets and tapestries. Guards marched all over the place, and Ike’s heart sank. Soren hadn’t been exaggerating – the castle was well patrolled.</p><p>The entrance to the gardens was in the same wing as Soren’s room, and Soren led the way as if he had been here many times. In the dead of winter, it was a garden of snow and ice. Bare trees reached for the sky with skeletal branches. The wind whistled through the breezeway and in the decorative stonework on the castle walls, creating a lonely sound. Here, too, were guards in abundance, a twin set at every entrance and two more patrolling the perimeter. Evergreen bushes were cut low to discourage anyone from hiding among them. Nary a small animal or even a bird was seen, and there were no tracks in the snow save for those of the heavily-armored sentries.</p><p>“Here will do,” Soren said, coming to a white birch that spread its naked boughs over a stone bench. The guards took up places in a circle around the bench, their backs to it, facing outward alertly. Soren wiped off the bench and sat down, and Ike followed suit.</p><p>In the days prior, they had gone over what they would talk about during their outing. Right now, though, Ike didn’t want to engage in their carefully practiced farce. He looked up at the sky, electric blue in the afternoon, and felt his heart ache. He wanted so much to fly up into that sky, to get away from here.</p><p>Soren seemed to sense his mood. He said nothing for a long while, and Ike wondered if the prince was gripped with the same desire to escape. From his time with Queen Elincia, Ike knew that being royalty wasn’t always easy; but Soren worked himself harder than anyone Ike had ever known.</p><p>The slight weight against his side took him out of his thoughts. As they had planned, Soren was leaning against him, his head resting on Ike’s shoulder. Ike pressed closer to him, if not for the sake of the ruse then for the extra warmth. His face was beginning to go numb. Daein was truly frigid, not just cold but bitterly so in winter. Ike wondered if he had been used to it as a child. He wondered how Soren was sitting there with such composure, without so much as a shiver.</p><p>“I admire the way you fight,” Soren said, beginning the preconceived dialogue. Ike shifted his thoughts, hoping that he could remember everything he was supposed to say.</p><p>“My father taught me everything I know,” he said. That, at least, came easily. He was proud of his swordsmanship – though he was always hoping to improve, he cherished this part of himself. It was an unbreakable link to his father.</p><p>“Perhaps I will see you fight again one day,” Soren said, and Ike just nodded, forgetting how he was supposed to answer.</p><p>Soren gave him a sharp look. Ike frowned, raking his brain, until it came to him. “So, you fight with magic, right?”</p><p>This mundane dialogue had been carefully crafted by Soren, as a way to keep them on track. Soren had warned him against speaking freely, lest he accidentally let something slip. Ike liked to think that he was smarter than to betray himself, but Soren had asked for his cooperation, and Ike had to trust his judgment.</p><p>“I do. I’ve studied since I was very young.”</p><p>“Can I watch you practice sometime?”</p><p>Ike wasn’t particularly curious about Soren’s magical abilities. He was struggling to sound interested, and he was relieved when Soren stood and withdrew a tome from a strap at his side.</p><p>“Guards, give us space,” Soren commanded. The armored men hesitated just a moment before each taking a few steps forward, widening the little box of space between them. “Farther,” Soren said. They took another two steps.</p><p>Soren’s irritation became palpable when he opened the book and held up his hand. “I’ll clear a space myself, then,” he said, before a whisper of an unfamiliar language filled the air. A second later, the snow around them began to swirl, revealing dead grass as it formed a cyclone. The guards quickly scrambled out of the way of the stinging winds. Ike could see scratches forming on their armor.</p><p>The wind became a roar, and Ike had to squint through the gale. He planted his feet wide on the ground, feeling as if he were about to be blown off of the bench. Then, as suddenly as it began, it subsided. The snow was now piled up in a ring several yards in diameter, and the guards were standing almost knee-deep in snow.</p><p>Soren took measured steps towards one of the sentries. “When I tell you to clear a space, I don’t mean a few paces,” he said. His tone was dripping with disdain.</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness,” the guard said. Ike could detect a minor tremble in his voice; somewhere behind him, another guard chuckled softly.</p><p>“Stand back,” Soren said, and the guards obeyed this time, backing up along the garden walls. He returned to the center of the circle, and told Ike in a lowered voice, “Mages are not highly respected in Nevassa. Sometimes, I have to show a more forceful hand to get any compliance from them. You!” His head snapped up, his tone shifting so abruptly that it startled even Ike.</p><p>The guard in question stepped forward slightly. “Yes, Your Highness.” His voice echoed hollowly within his helm.</p><p>“What happened to the last man who defied my order?”</p><p>“You killed him.” Ike could see the guard’s eyes flash towards the others, briefly. Of the four, this one seemed more experienced. The others were younger-looking, probably greener.</p><p>“Let this be known,” Soren addressed the others, his voice echoing around the gardens. Ike could see the patrolling sentries glancing their way. “If you have issue with the duty to which you’ve been assigned, then I can easily change your situation. Daein has no need of useless whelps who can’t follow orders.”</p><p>There was a resounding, “Yes, Your Highness!” and the guards stepped back again.</p><p>Ike watched this display curiously. It hadn’t been a part of their plan. Soren took up a caster’s stance, and began to channel the spirits, whispering inaudibly as he summoned a whirlwind that grew with each movement of his lips.</p><p>There was something familiar in that stance. Ike frowned as he watched, wondering where he had seen this before. Surely he had faced many spellcasters in battle, but this was different. The glossy black hair whipping in the wind, the flowing robes flying to and fro as if artfully arranged… He saw flashing red eyes, and a burning red mark, and he suddenly felt like he was outside of himself. He had seen this before, from the same angle, sitting on the bench while Soren commanded the winds.</p><p>The demonstration didn’t last long, but by the end of it, Ike was grudgingly impressed. The strange feeling of déjà vu had passed. As Soren came to sit on the bench again, Ike said, “That was impressive. You really are skilled.”</p><p>“Thank you, Ike.” Soren sounded pleased.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Later, Ike had plenty of questions to ask. “What was that all about?” He sat on the bed, one leg tucked beneath him as he pressed one foot to the floor. “You never told me why you were going to do magic.” Ike had almost hoped that it was the beginning to some thrilling escape. Perhaps Soren was planning to scoop Ike up on the wind and send him flying over the castle walls.</p><p>“I needed to test the limits,” Soren said. “Right now, you’re under strict watch. Each time we venture out, I plan to push the boundaries bit by bit. I want to see how much space we can get. It will make things easier if we can earn the guards’ trust.”</p><p>It made as much sense to Ike as the plan to have him fall for Soren, which was to say very little. “How is that going to help us?”</p><p>“They need to get used to your presence here. You are the enemy.” Soren sat on the bed this time, on the other side. Ike turned to look at him, but the prince was facing the fireplace. “They need to see you as a non-threat. If they realize that you aren’t going to go berserk the moment you’re set loose, then we should be able to work more freely.”</p><p>“What about that demonstration earlier?”</p><p>“I hadn’t planned on that, but it happens from time to time.” Ike thought he could hear a small sigh from Soren. “I explained already that mages are not highly respected, and that includes even me. Many of the newer guards feel that I’m weak. Physically, I am – which is why I must intimidate them from time to time. Three of those guards were new, and so I had to demonstrate my power. That’s how things work here in Nevassa.”</p><p>Ike shook his head. “It’s so odd here…”</p><p>“Are you saying that strength isn’t valued in your army?”</p><p>“Not to this extent.” Ike would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to be stronger, but he would never treat someone badly simply because they couldn’t fight. “So, in Daein, fear is equal to respect, is that it?”</p><p>“If they fear you, then they respect you, yes.”</p><p>There was no point in debating it. “How long do you think it’ll be before I can actually get out of here?” he asked.</p><p>“Give it time,” Soren said.</p><p>Ike didn’t know how much longer he could strain his patience. But he would try, if only because there was no good alternative.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Snapped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ike finally loses it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The castle is quiet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soren walks the halls, sits in the library, paces the floor of his room, but he can’t get his mind off of the silence. It pushes at the edges of his sanity, reminding him constantly that Ike is gone and that he will probably never return. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The king has been on a rampage for days. Normally so controlled, Ashnard’s temper has reached the height of its fury. The last time Soren even got near, he had been hit across the face and sent skidding into a nearby guard. He had not been helped to his feet. Instead, he rose on his own and gave a short bow before excusing himself from the dining hall. The tears that came later were for Ike’s sake, though, not for the bruise forming on his own cheek. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soren looks out of his bedroom window, which overlooks a courtyard. It had once been one of Ike’s favorite haunts. The boy was always practicing his swordsmanship against invisible enemies, and his hearty cries, “For Daein!” could be heard even in Soren’s room. Now, Soren looks down on the empty scene with an equally empty heart. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All he can hear now is his mother shrieking at his father. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He rolls himself in his blanket on the bed and closes his eyes. It would be best to expunge Ike from his memory entirely. Soon enough, he thinks, he will forget. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All he wants is to forget. </em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Ike had never been much of a reader. He had been mediocre at his studies as a child and had in fact given them up in favor of training as soon as he’d been allowed. In the prince’s quarters, though, there wasn’t a lot to do other than read. A person could only exercise so much in a day, and once he had had a workout, Ike was left with nothing else to occupy his time.</p><p>After Ashnard had allowed Soren to leave the room, the prince was gone quite a bit. He had meetings with the generals and with his father, lessons and training, drills with the castle mages under his tutelage. On these occasions, Ike wandered the small space of Soren’s room and perused the books that were lined up on the vast shelves.</p><p>Many of these were beyond his comprehension, and a good lot of them were in other languages. The ones that Ike could read were hardly entertaining to him – dictionaries, botanical field guides, mathematical charts, magical theories, historical accounts of Daein and other countries, and guides on social etiquette and customs in various foreign lands. The only books that even mildly interested him were accounts of wars and examinations of battle tactics, and these were hefty reading that usually had Ike dozing off in the middle of a chapter.</p><p>Now and then he would get a thrill from reading his father’s name. General Gawain had been far more famous than Ike had imagined; he was mentioned in several of the historical war accounts, and there was one book that had an entire chapter dedicated to examining his unique style of swordsmanship. Once upon a time, he had apparently lived only to bring glory to Daein. Why he had left was a mystery to Ike, though he could imagine that working for Ashnard would have driven anyone to reevaluate their life plans.</p><p>It was in one of these war books that Ike found something of interest – a sheaf of paper that fell into his lap as he turned the page. It was a small-trimmed piece, half the size of the book’s pages, and nearly new-looking in comparison to the yellowed paper that had concealed it. The handwriting was small and neat, recognizable to Ike instantly as Soren’s, though the message itself made no sense to Ike: <em>34192.</em></p><p>Ike frowned. There was nothing else on the paper, back or front. Figuring that it had been used as a bookmark, he tucked it back into its place and shut the book. He would have thought nothing more about it had he not discovered a similar note in another book next to the first: <em>58439. </em>This one had an addition, though. At the very bottom corner, written so small that Ike had to squint at it, was one word: <em>obfuscation. </em></p><p>The lock clicked in the door, and Ike hurriedly tucked the book away. Soren had returned a bit early.</p><p>“I thought we would go to dinner together,” he said, and Ike’s spirits rose just a bit. “I’ve brought you some more clothes. Go ahead and get dressed.”</p><p>Ike changed into the simple tan breeches, white shirt, and red doublet. He didn’t ask about the new outfit; he was just grateful to have something clean to wear. His other clothes were too warm to wear inside, and his tattered pants had yet to be laundered. He suspected that the servants refused to touch them.</p><p>“I hadn’t taken you for a reader,” Soren commented blithely. His eyes were fixed on the bookcase.</p><p>“Oh, uh, I’m not.” Ike pulled at the shirt; it was a bit tight in the arms. “Just bored.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>Soren went to the shelf, examined the books, and reached out to tuck one back into place – the one Ike had been looking through. If he suspected Ike of discovering the hidden notes, he didn’t say it. He merely went to the tabletop mirror over the mantel and began brushing his hair. It was wind-swept, and Ike deduced that he’d been training in the courtyard again. Ike wondered, not for the first time, when he would next see combat, himself.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>“More potatoes?”</p><p>Ike looked up from his plate. Soren was holding out the serving dish, the steaming mounds giving off a delicious aroma of butter and rosemary. Despite the appetizing display, Ike glared at them. “No,” he said irritably. The plate was set back on the table.</p><p>“I’m not sure what’s gotten you into such a bad mood,” Soren said casually, scooping a potato onto his own plate. “Isn’t the mutton to your liking?”</p><p>Ike’s glare turned on Soren. “Do you really expect me to eat like <em>this</em>?!”</p><p>Soren took a moment to examine the chains binding Ike’s wrists to the arms of his chair. It had been brought in from the dungeons and modified to give Ike just a bit of room to move. He could reach his plate and his fork, but that was all. A chain wrapped around his waist, preventing him from moving away from the seat. And to add insult to injury, two guards were flanking him. One of them had cut his meat for him. Ike felt humiliated.</p><p>“You’ll just have to put up with it,” Soren said, turning his attention back to his own meal. “When outside of my room, you must be bound and under watch at all times.”</p><p>“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?!” Ike brandished his fork, the only utensil he had been allowed. The guards reacted by stepping a bit closer, their armor clanking menacingly.</p><p>“At ease,” Soren told them. To Ike, he said, “That fork would make a suitable weapon even in the hands of a novice. You are a veteran soldier – surely you could think of a few ways to kill a man with it.”</p><p>Ike scowled and dropped the fork. “Like I would do that to you.” He shifted a bit, and said gruffly, “Can I at least relieve myself?”</p><p>With a nod from Soren, the guards moved to unlock the chains. The shackles on Ike’s wrists were snapped together, separately from the chains that clipped to the chair. He was released and then led out of the small dining room to an inconspicuous water closet in the hall.</p><p>In here, at least, he was allowed to be alone for a moment. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. For a second, he had even considered pulling up the garderobe bench and squeezing down through the filthy tunnel to the pit below. Any more of this treatment, he thought, and he might just do it.</p><p>“What do you think the prince is doing with this guy?” The guard’s voice was lowered, but Ike could hear him through the iron filigree on the door. There was only a mesh screen in the ventilation gaps.</p><p>“What do <em>you</em> think?” the other guard replied with a snickering laugh. “The poor guy’s being kept in the prince’s room, and he doesn’t have any torture marks on ‘im. It’s the prince who’s gone and gotten impaled.”</p><p>The first echoed the second’s stifled laughter. “I always figured the prince for a poof.”</p><p>“More than that,” the second said with a conspiratorial nudge of his companion’s shoulder. Ike could hear the metal clinking. “Rumor is that he’s actually a woman.”</p><p>“Really?!” The first guard’s voice rose in his shock, and then lowered again so that Ike had to strain to hear him. “You don’t say… I wonder what’s under all those robes?”</p><p>“You can’t be serious. Are you so desperate that you’d touch a half-breed?”</p><p>“If there’s arse involved, I don’t care where it comes from.” The first guard was now rocking back and forth in his mirth. “You know the law. If he can’t protect himself, there’s no reason not to try for a bit of that cu—”</p><p>Ike couldn’t listen anymore. Rage was boiling in his throat. He wasn’t exactly happy to be here, but he couldn’t stomach this kind of disrespect towards anyone. He wouldn’t have tolerated this kind of talk among his own men. “Should you really talk about your prince like that?” His voice echoed in the small chamber.</p><p>“What did you say?” The door opened, and one of them looked in on him. The man’s face was partially obscured by his helmet.</p><p>“I said, you shouldn’t talk like that about the people you’re supposed to protect.” Ike turned to face them with his full fury. Their lack of fear only irritated him more; they knew that he was no threat to them.</p><p>“What’s it any of your business?” one of them said with a guffaw.</p><p>“Are you going to tattle on us? I don’t think the prince would believe a word you say.” The other guard snickered.</p><p>“Didn’t think you’d be so keen to defend him. Aren’t you his prisoner?”</p><p>Ike stood at his full height, defiant. “Doesn’t matter. I know right from wrong, and what you’re talking about is despicable.”</p><p>These two were obviously rookies. Ike wondered why they hadn’t immediately dragged him out of the garderobe and shut him up with swift blows from their spear shafts, rather than engaging in an argument with a prisoner. He wondered if Soren had warned them not to touch him.</p><p>“Get off your high horse,” the first guard said. “Right from wrong doesn’t matter, so long as you’re strong. Not like you’d know, you fa—”</p><p>All of Ike’s patience, his careful biding of his time, snapped right then. He barreled into the guard, shoulder first, tucking his head and arms close to his body to minimize the damage to himself. The guard was thrown off balance, and the fight began.</p><p>The second guard was on him in a flash, but the adrenaline rush was well underway. He sidestepped the first attack, slipping past the lunging guard and kicking him into the bench of the garderobe. As the first was struggling to his feet, hindered by his heavy armor, Ike backed out into the hallway and wedged the door shut with his shoulder. He leaned against it, holding it shut, and the guard on the floor looked up at him in bewilderment and – Ike liked to think – some fear.</p><p>Weeks of simple exercise had helped him to stay in shape, but he didn’t have a real plan. The guard stood and grabbed for him. Ike stood his ground, bracing against the harsh blows from inside the closet as he kicked out at the clawing hands. “Is Daein just full of disgusting letches?!” Ike’s voice rang through the halls, echoing along with the clatter of armored footsteps hurrying towards them. “Don’t you have any honor?!”</p><p>They slammed into him before he could really register how close they had come – three guards in red and black livery, all piling on top of him as he was pushed to the floor. His head cracked against the stone; his vision blanked out for a second, and he struggled ineffectually. He couldn’t manage to hit anyone. His fists and elbows and knees only found solid stone, and soon he was prone and trembling with exertion while two of the guards held him down.</p><p>These were castle guards, he realized. The two escorting him were merely soldiers, probably plucked from among the town sentries. They would be used to bar brawls and minor conflicts; these three newcomers were far better trained. They were deadly serious in their demeanor as they hoisted Ike to his feet, their gauntleted hands like steel vises on his arms and shoulders. He didn’t waste energy fighting them off. They would kill him without hesitation if he attacked them.</p><p>“What is going on here?” Soren was coming their way, his step quicker than normal but not hurried.</p><p>“Your Highness,” one of the castle guards said. “The prisoner was causing trouble.”</p><p>Soren’s eyes were cold as they regarded Ike. The general could feel his icy fury. “Did I not instruct you to keep your hands off of him?” Soren said, addressing the guards.</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness. You did.”</p><p>The three guards holding Ike up immediately let go of him. He stood there panting for a second, his knees wobbling. He forced himself to remain standing; he would not be seen in such a weakened state. Not by the guards, not by the prince.</p><p>“And did I not tell you that I would handle any necessary discipline?” Soren continued.</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness.” The head guard sounded as if he wanted to protest, but he was holding back. His tone was heavy with irritation. Ike wondered if this one held the same contempt for his prince that the others seemed to.</p><p>“He attacked,” one of the amateur guards said, and Ike was pleased to note that he was still struggling to stand. “He charged, no doubt making an escape attempt. Your Highness.”</p><p>Soren regarded Ike critically. “Is this true?”</p><p>“Yes,” Ike said through clenched teeth. Then, he added, “I wasn’t going to stand there and listen to them talk about you that way.”</p><p>The two sentries tensed up. The three arriving guards looked to them questioningly. Soren raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What were they saying?”</p><p>Ike shook his head. “I won’t repeat it. But it was…” It was disgusting. Ike had little patience for people who preyed on others in that way. He didn’t care if he was throwing them under the carriage, and he didn’t care if he had started a fight. </p><p>Soren took only a moment to think. “Take them to the dungeons,” he said to the leader of the three guards. “See if you can find out what they were saying. I will deal with the prisoner.”</p><p>There were protests from the two sentries. “Your Highness, we have only ever served Daein loyally!” “Please, Your Highness, he’s lying!” They were ignored. The castle guard hauled them off, and Soren took hold of the chain attached to Ike’s wrists.</p><p>“Come,” he said, and Ike followed him, his head still tilting to one side. He could feel blood pooling at his neck, forming a sticky trail down his face that chilled in the cold castle air.</p><p>They retreated to Soren’s chambers, which for once was a welcome sight to Ike. If he had to choose between here or the dungeons, he would certainly prefer to be kept in the warm little room. Then Soren whirled around to face him, having locked the door securely. His glare was twice as chilling as the dungeons.</p><p>“What do you think you’re doing?” Soren asked in a low, dangerous voice. He hadn’t even unchained Ike’s hands.</p><p>Ike stared back at him steadily. “They deserved it,” he said. If Soren had heard what they were talking about…</p><p>“Do you forget your position here?” Soren hissed. “You are treading thin ice, Ike! If the king believes you to be too much trouble, he could simply have you executed!”</p><p>“I don’t care!” Ike bit back, anger rising once more. His chains clanked against the ground as he lashed them furiously. “They were saying horrible things, and I wasn’t gonna sit there and listen to it!”</p><p>“You have to be pa—”</p><p>“I’m SICK of being patient!” With this vehement declaration came a violent kick, and the desk chair went flying into the wall. It splintered apart with a loud crash. Soren flinched, but didn’t stand down.</p><p>“You are acting like a child,” he said, his voice low in forced calm. “You need to consider your actions carefully. If you want to get out of here alive, then you have no choice. You’ll just have to bear it.”</p><p>Ike wanted to strike out again, but there was nothing against which he could vent his anger. He roared in rage and fell to his knees, slamming a fist into the floor. It hurt, and the pain cleared his head a little. Panting hard, shoulders heaving, he stared at the rug beneath him, the crimson pile mesmerizing him.</p><p>Softly, Soren knelt and reached for Ike’s wrists. Ike allowed himself to be unchained, still staring at the carpet and feeling the anger ebb from him. “I know that this is difficult.” Soren’s hands were gentle, though his voice was still hard and cold as ice. “If the outings are too much, then we can lessen them. I can convince Ashnard on my own.”</p><p>Ike shook his head, slowly. “I can do it,” he said.</p><p>“It seems that you can’t.”</p><p>Soren pulled Ike up by the arm. He produced the heal staff from behind the bookcase, and healed Ike’s wounds. The knock on the door came just as he was tucking it away again.</p><p>Ike was sitting on the bed, staring down at his feet, but he recognized the voice of the head guard when Soren opened the door. “The troublemakers have been imprisoned,” he said.</p><p>“Good. Anything else?” Soren was nervous, Ike realized. It didn’t bode well. Perhaps his slip-up had been a huge mistake, after all. His righteous fury seemed to deflate as cold, hard reason reared its head. The consequences of his actions were looking more and more dire. </p><p>The captain hesitated for a moment. “A formal report has been filed.” His tone seemed to carry some warning with it. Soren tensed at those words.</p><p>“There’s no need,” he said, a little too quickly. “The king has more important matters to attend.”</p><p>“We are under orders to keep a close eye on the prisoner.” The guard sounded almost apologetic. “We must make our report to the king, Your Highness.”</p><p>Soren nodded, a short jerk of his head. “Very well. If that is all, then you are dismissed.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Highness.”</p><p>The guard left, and Soren shut the door. Ike noted that he was biting his lower lip.</p><p>“So, they’re going to tell your father?”</p><p>“That’s right,” Soren said. “Let’s just hope that he has too much on his mind to pay attention.”</p><p>The king did, indeed, pay attention.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Do you ever go back on something you've written and doubt whether it should remain the way it is? I did with this chapter, a LOT. I finished writing it a while ago, but I kept going back and toying with it. In the end, though, it gets us to where we need to go. Hopefully, it's entertaining! This chapter marks a pivotal shift in the story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Shifting Focus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em>It’s getting late. The boy knows that his mother will come looking for him soon, but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. He’s too ashamed. </em>
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  <em>He’d spent the last hour crying, after another hour raging. Ike isn’t normally one for tears, but today, he can’t seem to stop them. It’s not fair. How can he be strong for Daein when he can’t even pull himself together?</em>
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  <em>The warm body curled around him shifts, and ruby-red eyes blink at him in the shadows cast by the setting sun. “Are you ready to tell me what that was all about?” </em>
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  <em>Ike sniffs. He nods his head. “I got beat today,” he says ruefully, his voice thick from crying and hoarse from shouting in rage. </em>
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  <em>Soren’s arms tighten around him. “Who beat you?” </em>
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  <em>“Sven. It’s always Sven.” Ike balls his fists. “His dad’s not even a general! It’s not fair!” </em>
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  <em>“Ike,” Soren says, and Ike relaxes again. The other boy’s voice is soothing. It calms him instantly, focuses his thoughts into the present. When Ike is quiet again, Soren says, “He’s much older than you are.”</em>
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  <em>“I know, but…” </em>
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  <em>“You can’t take on someone with that much experience,” Soren goes on. “He’s already being trained by the junior guards. He has formal training that you don’t have.” </em>
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  <em>Ike sniffs again, loudly. </em>
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  <em>“But you will one day.” The thin arms around Ike’s shoulders squeeze him for a moment. “You’ll get older and bigger, too.”</em>
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  <em>“I’m just sick of waiting,” Ike grumbles. </em>
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  <em>“Too bad.” The prince’s nonchalance stings just a little, but Ike knows that he’s right. There isn’t anything either of them can do about it. Ike will just have to grow up like everyone else. There are no shortcuts in the passage of time.</em>
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  <em>Ike is too young yet to understand just how quickly he will reach adulthood. It seems like an eon away. But he does appreciate that Soren has once again calmed him down. He looks at the prince and smiles. “Sorry I cried,” he says. “That wasn’t manly at all.” </em>
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  <em>“You’ve seen me cry,” Soren points out, a little shyly. </em>
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  <em>“Yeah, but you’re a prince. I’m a warrior!” Ike stands, dusting off his rump. “I’m supposed to be tougher than that.” </em>
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  <em>“Whatever you say.” Soren’s tone indicates that he doesn’t really grasp what Ike’s thinking. Regardless, Ike feels embarrassed and grateful in equal measure. Normally, he tries to keep his temper in check. Today, everything had just come to a head. The rush of anger when Sven had mocked him, the thrill of challenging the older boy to a duel, and the humiliation and pain of defeat had been too much for Ike to handle. </em>
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  <em>“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” He knows the answer already. </em>
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  <em>Soren shakes his head. “As long as you never tell anyone that I cried once.” </em>
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  <em>Ike grins widely. “It’s our secret, then!” </em>
</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Ike woke up with a jolt. His body trembled, and the images of the dream stood out clearly in his mind. <em>I knew him. </em>He couldn’t believe that he didn’t put two and two together before.</p><p>It was already well past daybreak, and Soren was gone. For a moment, Ike looked around the room, frantic. He <em>knew</em> Soren. Soren had once been his friend. The dreams had been coming more and more frequently lately, but he was slow on the uptake. How could he have forgotten?</p><p>Heaving himself out of bed, Ike went to the window. The courtyard was empty; Soren wasn’t training yet. For weeks, he had watched the mage dance in the snow, summoning whirlwinds, calling down lightning and thunder, sending jets of fire streaming into the sky. Now Ike knew why the sight made him so nostalgic. He remembered, vaguely, sitting in that very yard and watching the prince develop his skills.</p><p>Ike pushed away from the window. Though this room had been his prison for nearly three months, he now looked around as if seeing it for the first time. There by the fireplace was where he and Soren used to sit on winter days, warming themselves. Soren would sometimes amuse him by making the flames dance up and down or assume fantastical shapes. The desk was where Ike had sometimes hidden while Soren studied, because Ike hadn’t wanted to go to his own lessons. He could hear his mother calling for him up and down the halls.</p><p>He saw these events happening in front of him, as if he had stepped back in time. How stupid, he thought. Was he really that dumb?</p><p>Of course, it had been a very long time ago. Ike counted in his head. He had been maybe six or seven when they’d left Daein; that would have been around fifteen years ago.</p><p>There was also the fact that he had had other things on his mind when he’d been brought here.</p><p>The rush of emotions, of realization, died down as Ike thought about the situation. He and Soren had once been friends. Now, they were enemies. Soren was driving the army that Ike had fought against for five years. He had orchestrated the invasion of Crimea and the attempted breach of Gallia’s borders. It was by his hand that all of Tellius was now falling into chaos.</p><p>By his hand, Ike thought, but not by his will.</p><p>He knew that Soren’s personal feelings on the war were irrelevant. He had to do what he was told by Ashnard. Just like Ike, he was nothing more than a tool to be used by those in power. Even the most versatile, deadly instrument has no will of its own, Ike thought ruefully.</p><p>He sat down on the bed and counted his breaths. He would speak with Soren about his revelation. Perhaps Soren remembered, too. If he did, then perhaps there was a way for Ike to persuade him to switch sides. Surely, Soren could see how the people of Tellius were suffering. And if the prince was willing to use his skills to free Ike, then perhaps he would use them to free Tellius, as well.</p><p>They had been friends, Ike thought. Soren would help him.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>As Ike was experiencing this shift in thinking, Soren was standing in Ashnard’s study, focusing on subduing his own racing thoughts. Ashnard had called for him early that morning, and Soren hadn’t even had time to have breakfast. It was just as well; he was too nervous to eat anything.</p><p>The study was a place that Soren hated to go, though he spent a lot of time here during the course of his duties as tactician. It was a small room, stuffy and warm, with dark wood paneling and heavy draperies concealing the windows. Soren always felt suffocated in here. The leering animal heads on the wall didn’t help the atmosphere, either. Soren eyed a large mounted wyvern head as he approached his father’s chair.</p><p>The king was sitting at leisure, quite comfortable in a red wingback chair. He was staring into the fire. Soren couldn’t see his expression. The prince did not announce his presence, instead waiting to be acknowledged.</p><p>“I hear,” Ashnard began, “that we had a little excitement yesterday.”</p><p>Soren bowed his head. “Yes, Father.”</p><p>“Is it true that Gawain’s son fought two guards while chained?”</p><p>“Yes.” There was no way to spin it in a good light. Soren simply confirmed the facts, his eyes on the floor and his heart beating hard in his chest.</p><p>A low chuckle shook Ashnard’s shoulders. “I must say, I had you all wrong, boy. Come, sit down.” He gestured to the empty chair across from his.</p><p>Soren obeyed, sitting delicately, perched as if he might rise again at any moment. Ashnard’s face, now that he could see it, was twisted in a smirk. “You really did it,” he said with something like awe. “You actually got the general to fall for you. I’m impressed!”</p><p>Soren tried not to look too relieved. Ashnard was pleased. “The report mentioned that he was fighting for your honor. Even chained and shut in a garderobe, he was willing to fight!” The thought seemed to amuse Ashnard, and he took a moment to laugh softly. “Defending your honor from a restroom stall! I like the thought of that.”</p><p>“Get to the point,” Soren growled, and Ashnard seemed even more amused by his son’s irritation.</p><p>“It seems that the time has come to lessen the leash a bit,” Ashnard said. “You will accompany him outside of your rooms, and there will be no further need for the chains.” Soren’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m appointing him as your personal guard.”</p><p>In the back of Soren’s mind, he knew that Ashnard was not fully convinced – yet. His father was a suspicious man, and rightfully so. Even as he took pride and pleasure in his son’s devious mind, he still didn’t trust him. Soren knew this, and Ashnard knew that Soren knew. Neither of them had ever expected any sort of trust from the other. And yet, Soren’s ruse had worked.</p><p>He allowed himself a moment to enjoy this small victory. It was, at least, one more hurdle passed over. One more barrier broken down, before Ike could be freed.</p><p>“Anything else?” Soren dared to ask.</p><p>“Just that you two should continue as you have been,” Ashnard said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Three months, and still no heir. My patience runs thin, boy.”</p><p>“You’ll just have to deal with it,” Soren said, standing up. “These things take time.”</p><p>“All the same, I shall send for some herbs from Begnion. Supposedly, they can help with conception.”</p><p>Soren shivered. He hadn’t considered the possibility of being drugged. “I would appreciate that,” he said, starting for the door. “I have no intention of prolonging this. The sooner it’s born, the sooner I can return to my routine.”</p><p>Ashnard laughed. “Always practical,” he said. “You might consider this a vacation of sorts! How many people can say they are lucky enough to fornicate for a living?”</p><p>“Just about every whore in Tellius,” Soren said flatly, and he slammed the door behind himself, shutting out Ashnard’s cackling laughter.</p><p>He wanted to scream. Instead, Soren took brisk, even steps towards the library. Some reading would calm his nerves—</p><p>Suddenly, he spun on his heel, changing course. A servant jumped out of the way as he barged back towards his room. He wanted to see Ike. At the very least, he would be able to impart the good news. Then he would head out for some training, or reading, or something else, to quell the agitation in his gut.</p><p>Ike was awake when Soren returned, and he seemed to be waiting for him. “You’re back early,” Ike said.</p><p>Soren didn’t comment. He took care to lock the door, as he always did, and went to sit at his desk. “Ashnard called for me. He heard about the altercation in the hall yesterday.”</p><p>Ike’s face fell. “Yeah?”</p><p>With a sigh, Soren fixed Ike with a penetrating stare. “He was very pleased.”</p><p>“He- what?” Ike’s brows furrowed further. “He was happy about it?”</p><p>Soren nodded. “The captain reported that the two guards had been speaking ill of me. He said that you provoked them to defend my honor.”</p><p>“Well, it was…” Ike trailed off as he realized that that was exactly what had happened. He wondered how much of it had been common decency, how much had been sheer frustration, and how much had been an echo of the past, when he had once pledged to protect his prince.</p><p>Whether Soren understood this or not, he didn’t seem moved by the gesture. He spoke in his usual matter-of-fact tone as he said, “Ashnard believes that you were motivated by your loyalty to me – at least, by your lust for me. He has assigned you to be my personal guard. You are now free of the restraints and may go where you wish within the castle.”</p><p>Ike’s jaw nearly dropped. “Are you serious?”</p><p>“Don’t get too excited,” Soren said with a sharp glare. “He hasn’t been completely fooled. I don’t believe that he ever will be. This is more of a test for you – if you do use this opportunity to kill me and run for freedom, then he will consider it a lesson well learned on my part.”</p><p>“He really thinks I would do that?”</p><p>“I’m not entirely certain what he thinks,” Soren said. “I told you, he’s unpredictable. But he is never off his guard. We have to be cautious from here on out – perhaps even more so than we have been.” His eyes narrowed. “You cannot make any more mistakes. The consequences of your performance in the hall were a stroke of pure luck. We can’t count on that to happen again. Understood?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ike said seriously. “This means that I’ll be out of here soon, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“You won’t be here for much longer, as long as you do what you’re told and keep your temper in line.”</p><p>Ike nodded. “OK. I won’t let you down. I promise.”</p><p>Soren blinked. “It’s for your own sake,” he said after some hesitation. “Not mine.”</p><p>The reaction told Ike what he had wanted to know. Ike could remember saying the same thing to Soren many years ago. Soren’s expression showed a flash of recognition. Ike cleared his throat.</p><p>“You know, I was thinking…”</p><p>“I have to go,” Soren said, standing up. “I have a lot to do. You will be briefed soon, and then we’ll discuss a plan for escape.”</p><p>Ike wanted to interrupt, but Soren seemed edgy. “OK,” he said, and Soren left. Ike fell back onto the mattress, letting out a puff of breath.</p><p>He was going to be free. Soon, he would be able to reunite with his family and friends. He would be able to take up the fight once more. And, with any luck, he would have someone in Daein on his side, someone to help end the fighting once and for all.</p><p>Right now, Ike felt a lot more hopeful than he had in a long time.</p><p>&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt; </p><p>Mist took a deep breath. She had to steel her nerves, or else she might falter. She could not falter, though – she was determined to see this through.</p><p>It was the hour before dawn. Gray light was beginning to deepen the shadows all around, making the bare treetops look like veins shot through the lightening sky. It was going to be overcast today, and there was a bitter dampness in the air that forecasted snow. Though it was already spring, Daein would not emerge from beneath its blanket for another few weeks at the least.</p><p>She pulled her woolen shawl tightly about her shoulders. She tucked her mittened hands into her armpits. Silently, she waited.</p><p>A soft rustling drew her attention to the evergreen shrubs along the path. A large, pale form emerged, and she smiled. “You didn’t run into any trouble?” she asked.</p><p>The cat purred, squeezing his mismatched eyes. “Only a few pretty maids,” he said. “You’re in the clear.”</p><p>“Thanks, Ranulf.” She adjusted her shawl again and took another steadying breath. “OK,” she said. “Here we go.”</p><p>“I’ll keep watch from the bushes,” Ranulf said reassuringly.</p><p>She nodded, squared her shoulders, and began to walk.</p><p>This hidden little forest pathway led to a paved road that wound up and around the sloping landscape. As she went, she could see Ranulf’s shadow darting in between trees and boulders, well away from the road. The first building appeared to be an inn, and two young women were standing outside of it, sweeping the walkway, chattering in voices that carried on the still morning air. Mist gave them a friendly nod that was ignored as she passed by.</p><p>Signs of life emerged as she came nearer to the city walls. A guard rode by on a drowsy horse. Someone was sitting on the front stoop of a crooked little stone house (he also ignored Mist’s wave of greeting). These aren’t a friendly people, she thought. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she took some solace in Ranulf’s fleeting appearances.</p><p>The buildings were growing in number now, new structures huddled with old on the sides of the road. People were milling about, going to and from the large gate that loomed ahead. Mist gulped.</p><p>There was a small crowd around the gate, though it was open for anyone to walk in. Two guards were checking people in as others came out unhindered. Mist queued up with sleepy day workers, farmers with their carts, fresh-faced maids, and weary travelers. She waited among the rapidly thinning group, until one of the guards beckoned her over.</p><p>“Your business?” the stone-faced man asked in a grunting voice.</p><p>Mist cleared her throat, looking him in the eye. “I’m starting a new job today,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. “I’m expected at the castle.”</p><p>The guard looked her over with a flick of his gray eyes. Then he nodded and ushered her past him with a jerk of his head and a shrug of his shoulder.</p><p>She clutched her shawl, resisted the urge to glance around for Ranulf, and stepped into Nevassa.</p>
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